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Harry Potter Squib Tales Chapter 29: Flight to Remember
🕑 Added 2024-02-15 17:00:07 +0000 UTCChapter 29: Flight to Remember
Harry POV
Winter had finally come to an end in the Scottish Highlands, and Harry was grateful for that. Snow was nice and all, but the piercing cold and howling wind got old really quick. There were of course other reasons to appreciate the approach of spring. But he just really liked not having to wear two extra sets of warm clothes underneath his robes to stay warm in the dungeons during potions or when they ventured up to the Astronomy Tower.
As it was now the first week of March, besides the change in weather, it was also important because the second to last Quidditch game was upon them.
‘Hard to believe I’m the youngest Seeker in Hogwarts’s history,’ Harry mused to himself at the Gryffindor table within the Great Hall.
Honestly, he sometimes forgot about that fact, what with trolls, mysterious corridors, researching Nicholas Flamel, and homework to do.
Admitting as such to Wood, the aptly named captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team, would have gotten him a look of disbelief. The older student lived and breathed the sport!
‘At least I don’t have to listen to another one of his lectures about the game and its rules,’ Harry thought with a sigh. Don’t get him wrong, he liked the game plenty, but he really preferred flying to playing sports.
‘And don’t even get me started on the rules! Who thought it was a good idea to have the end of the game decided by catching a tiny golden ball? Or that doing so would grant over a hundred points?’ Harry just shook his head at the silliness of the rules. No matter how many times Wood, Ron, or his older brothers tried to tell him why said ridiculousness was integral to the sport, he just couldn’t wrap his head around it.
Still, at least it was fun. Some of the attempts to pander to him had made Harry uncomfortable, though. McGonagall had even offered to buy him a fancy new broom to play on, but while the Boy-Who-Lived was okay with joining the team as a First Year, he wasn’t going to flaunt the rules about First Years not being allowed to own or bring their brooms. Instead, he’d declared he would just fly on one of the school’s broom.
There had been protests from his team and friends (and even Madam Hooch) about that decision, but thrashing the Hufflepuffs in the first game of the year on the back of one of the schools old Cleansweeps had shown that he didn’t need a fancy broom to be a Seeker. It also shut up all the rumors some of the pettier students (mainly Slytherins) had spread about Harry needing special privileges, or that he’d only play so well on a fancy new broom.
As he thought about the upcoming game, Ron scooted over to him at the table and leaned in.
“Are you excited, Harry?” Ron asked eagerly. “Today’s the big day!”
“Yup,” Harry said as he ate breakfast.
“Good! Wipe that smug look off of Malfoy’s face when you crush the Slytherin team!” Ron urged. They should have played against the green themed House sooner, but Flint, the Slytherin captain, had had a Transfiguring accident the day before their match, and so they had played against Hufflepuff instead as the first match of the year.
“Ron! It’s just a Quidditch game!” Hermione said in exasperation. “Right, Neville?”
She looked over to the quiet pudgy boy for back-up, but found he was nodding along with Ron, a surprisingly stern look on his face.
“Not you too!” Hermione gasped in shock.
“Sorry, Hermione, but I really want Harry to give Snape a real reason to frown, and kicking some arse at the Quidditch match today is the best way to do it,” Neville said fiercely.
“See? Neville agrees with me!” Ron said with a nod.
“Honestly, I kinda want to do it for that reason too,” Harry admitted, causing Hermione to just gawk at him.
“Oh, come on, lighten up! It’s Snape!” Ron said with a shake of his head at their bookish friend’s expression.
“Well, yes, I know that, but still!” she spluttered.
“What are we talking about? Making Snape angrier than usual?” Hannah asked brightly, popping up next to Hermione with Susan at her side. “I say go for it, Harry!”
“Indeed. I’m not happy you beat Hufflepuff, but you can make that up to us by making sure Slytherin doesn’t take home the cup again,” Susan said, sitting down next to Harry with a chuckle.
“I’ll do my best,” Harry said dryly. “Speaking of, I better get down to the field. Wood wants us to warm up before the match.”
He got up, said a quiet ‘thank you’ to the House Elves for the food, and then headed down to the Quidditch pitch. He found Wood already there (no surprises in that regard) but also found the rest of the team minus the Weasley twins.
“Harry! Glad you’re here on time!” Wood said cheerfully as he stretched. Stretching was surprisingly important. It helped to be flexible and loose while playing Quidditch.
“Hi, Oliver. Alicia, Katie, Angelina,” Harry greeted politely. The three Chasers all smiled and waved at him.
“Where are Fred and George?” Oliver Wood demanded, looking frustrated at the lack of Weasley.
“I didn’t see them in the Great Hall,” Harry replied.
“Fine. Do your warm-up stretches before they arrive, Potter!” Wood asked, and Harry nodded, getting loose and limber alongside the female members of the team.
The Weasley Twins did show up a few minutes later, and got chewed out by Wood, but neither looked put off by it. Afterwards, Wood somehow managed to smoothly transition from his rant into a speech about teamwork and victory.
“Is it okay not to listen?” Harry asked in a low voice to the nearest red-headed twin who was looking away as he did his own warm-ups.
“We know Oliver’s speech by heart,” Fred claimed. Or was it George? “We were on the team last year.”
“Shut up, you two!” Wood shouted at them. “This is the best team Gryffindor’s head in years. We’re going to win. I know it!”
“Sure, sure, but seriously… same speech, every time,” George (or maybe Fred?) replied with a snicker.
Eventually, the stands began to fill up with spectators, and crimson and gold flags and pennants flew merrily in the breeze alongside emerald and silver ones.
“It’s time!” Wood said eagerly as Madam Hooch flew out onto the field, the box containing the balls floating beside her. Across the field the Slytherin team was lined up.
“Remember, Harry, Higgs is good at stopping on a dime, but has trouble turning while accelerated due to his broom being an old Silver Arrow. Best way to counter him is to keep moving, never stopping,” Wood whispered to Harry regarding the Slytherin Seeker. “And he prefers to avoid diving if he can help it. Again, because of the turning problem I mentioned.”
Harry nodded absent-mindedly, but his focus was not on his rival Seeker, but one of the Chasers. Mounted on a Comet 220 was one Rudolph Hunch, a very angry looking teen.
‘Hunch… Edwards’ brother,’ Harry thought to himself, looking at the student in question. They didn’t really look alike. They shared the same sharp, distinguished chin, but that was it. Rudy’s hair was darker and shorter, while his eyes were blue and narrowed in disgust as he glared at the Gryffindors.
He’d had little to do with the boy in the past, but now, he was an opponent. Harry mounted his broom at Madam Hooch’s whistle, and rose into the air.
A second whistle, and the Snitch was released. A third saw the quaffle hurled into the air, and the game was on. Moments later the two bludgers rocketed onto the field, but Harry was already looking around for the glint of gold that told him where the Snitch would be.
“And it looks like Flint tricked Wood with a side-slash! Ten points to Slytherin! First Blood to them!” the announcer, Lee Jordan, called out. Harry’s eyes narrowed at that, and he glanced around, all while flying here and there to avoid the bludgers sent his way.
As the game continued, more and more points were scored, mostly by the Slytherin team. They had managed to get a hundred and ten points to Gryffindor’s sixty, and Harry knew they would be searching for the Snitch now. Thanks to Wood, he knew that Flint and the Slytherin team liked to try and get at least a hundred points before searching for the Snitch in earnest, which was smart as regardless of who won the game, both sides still earned House Points based on their score, and even if Slytherin lost, a hundred points was nothing to scoff at.
Deciding he couldn’t let them win with such a wide point margin, Harry flew up high to get a better view, only to find the Cleansweep Seven he was riding begin to buck underneath him.
He grabbed on tight, but found it growing harder to keep his balance. What was happening?!
&&&&&
Neville POV
The game had been going… well enough, he supposed. Much as he was loath to admit it, but Flint ran a tight ship and his team players were well coordinated. Still, even with a couple newcomers the Gryffindor team was doing well.
“Go Fred! Go George!” Ron cheered. “Kick their arse!”
“Ron!” Hermione gasped, scandalized. She turned to her other friends. “Can you believe how worked up some of the students are getting?”
“YEAH!” Hannah shouted, waving a Gryffindor flag. “Wooo! Go! Tear those snakes apart and turn ‘em into boots!”
“Sorry about her,” Susan apologized, blushing a bit on behalf of her friend as Hermione stared at the blonde. “She gets very heated when it comes to sports and games in general. Quidditch, Exploding Snap… you should see how she gets when playing Gobstones.”
“Oi! Are you blind?! That was clearly a foul!” Hannah heckled as the Syltherin Beaters pulled a crude maneuver, pinning in one of the Chasers and knocking away the quaffle from her as it was thrown at her by one of the others. “Boo! Boo!”
“Hmm, the Slytherins are fifty points ahead, it will be hard for us to pull ahead,” Neville hummed.
“Am I the only one who finds this whole thing ridiculous?” Hermione muttered.
“There, there,” Susan said, patting her bushy-haired friend sympathetically.
“Um, guys?” Ron said, eyes locked onto the pitch. Everyone turned to see what he was looking, and their eyes widened while a sudden and loud gasp rippled through the stands.
Up in the air, almost past the upper boundary of the Quidditch field, was Harry, but he was in clear distress as he clung to the broom for dear life, trying to hold on as it flailed like a bucking bronco.
“Something’s wrong!” Hermione exclaimed, and Neville was forced to agree. There was no way the wild movements of Harry’s broom were natural, or safe. A fall from that height probably wouldn’t be fatal, all Quidditch stadiums and pitches had safety spells worked into them to slow or cushion a descent, but it wouldn’t be pretty, either.
“Why is nobody stopping this?” Hermione demanded.
“I don’t know!” Susan replied.
As Neville looked around, trying to see if there was anything he could to do help his friend in the air, his eyes fell onto the teacher’s box, where all the professors sat. They had all risen to their feet and were shouting and gesturing at Harry. Some, like Flitwick and McGonagall, had their wands out, but that didn’t seem to have any effect on the situation whatsoever.
However, when he looked closer at the box, he saw something… odd. Out of all the teachers, only two didn’t look worried. One was Dumbledore, but the other was Snape. Furthermore, Snape’s lips were moving, but he didn’t appear to be talking to anyone.
Eyes narrowing, Neville tapped his friends on the shoulders. “Look, over there, where the professors are,” he ordered, and one by one, his friends looked over and saw what he’d seen.
“It’s Snape!” Ron hissed angrily. “That greasy git! He’s hexing Harry’s broom!”
“He’s cheating! The Slytherins are gonna win because of him!” Hannah gasped indignantly, before blushing a bit at the looks the rest of the group shot her. “Sorry, sorry, but it’s true!”
“I don’t think Snape would cheat during a match… would he?” Hermione asked, looking around for support.
“I mean, maybe? If they were losing, perhaps. But Slytherin is winning,” Susan pointed out. “And it doesn’t look like Higgs has stopped trying to find the Snitch.”
“Um, well, he does hate Harry,” Ron countered. “Maybe he thought Harry saw the Snitch, and just… decided to even the odds?”
“Or maybe he’s trying to get him hurt,” Neville guessed sourly. The fact that nobody argued against that, not even Hermione, was fairly damning in the Longbottom scion’s opinion. Nobody should have to be afraid of a teacher, but the man was very good at doing just that.
When it was just Harry teaching Neville how to brew potions, the nerves and shakes he experiences when in the dungeons never manifested. But somehow, Snape brought out the worst in him, which usually led to failed potions and melted cauldrons.
Swallowing his nervousness, he looked around at the group. “We need to do something to help Harry.”
“How?” Hannah asked. “He’s way up there, and we can’t fly up to help him! And I don’t think the Levitation Charm will help much if he falls.”
“We just have to break his eye contact,” Hermione declared. “I read that it’s possible for some Hexes to be cast with just direct line of sight, no wand needed. It’s rather advanced, but easy to disrupt.”
“So, we need to make him look away, is what you’re saying,” Neville muttered. “Any ideas?”
“I think I do,” Hermione declared after a moment. “Watch my back!”
With that said, she crouched down and made her way towards the professors, keeping low to avoid being spotted.
She made it to the box, and slipped in. None of them could see what she was doing, but after a few seconds smoke began to pour out of the box, and the teachers were going wild as they began to stomp on Snape’s robe.
“Did you just light a teacher on fire?!” Hannah gasped in disbelief as Hermione returned to their side shortly after the act.
“It was just a small fire,” she replied, looking away with flushed cheeks.
“Wicked,” Ron breathed out, a savage grin slipping onto his face. Neville nodded in agreement, awed by Hermione’s deeds.
“I could never have done something like that,” Neville murmured in awe. Even with his new wand replacing his father’s broken one, the pudgy First Year lacked the courage to even try something like that to any teacher, let alone Snape!
“Look! Harry’s okay!” Susan exclaimed. “No, wait, he’s slipping!”
The broom’s twitching ceased with Snape’s gaze disrupted, but it seemed that Harry had finally lost his grip. He began to fall, but he held out both hands, and shouted, “DOWN!” causing the Cleansweep he’d been riding to shoot towards him, letting him remount it mere seconds before hitting the ground.
And then he raised a fist into the air, causing a sudden stillness before the crowds went wild. There, in the other hand, was the Snitch! He’d caught it while falling!
“One hell of a Quidditch match,” Neville muttered under his breath as he left with the rest of his friends (and wasn’t that amazing? He, Neville Longbottom, had friends!) to go congratulate Harry and the rest.
&&&&&
Harry POV
After all the excitement of the Gryffindor-Slytherin match (which the former won thanks to Harry’s quick and incredible snatching of the Snitch), Harry was glad that things seemed to settle down for a bit, and things settled back into a routine.
Visiting Hagrid was one such tradition he was more than happy to continue, now that the weather permitted it. As such, he smiled merrily as he and his group of friends walked down to the edge of the Forbidden Forest one sunny Saturday afternoon towards the hut the Groundskeeper lived in.
“Afternoon, Hagrid!” Harry said happily as he knocked on the door.
“Oh, Harry, what are you doing down here?” Hagrid asked as he opened the door. But, curiously, didn’t offer to let them in.
“Just wanted to chat a bit,” the Boy-Who-Lived said. “Is that okay?”
“Err, sure, I suppose,” Hagrid said nervously, allowing the group of six students to enter. “There’s not much, though.”
“That’s fine,” Harry assured him.
Kinda hot in here,” Hannah muttered, tugging at the collar of her robe. “Do you have to keep that fire blazing?”
“Got t’ chase away the damp and chill nights,” Hagrid stammered.
“Lotta firewood in here, too,” Susan commented, awkwardly sitting down on a pile of logs.
“Getting ready for winter early. Smart,” Hermione said, nodding in approval. Harry and the rest shot the bushy-haired girl an incredulous look. It was the start of spring, that was a bit too early to begin prepping for winter!
“Err, yeah, winter. That’s right,” Hagrid said nervously.
‘Well, that’s a lie,’ Harry thought, and he wasn’t the only one doubting his words. If there was one thing the group of students had learned from their meetings with Hagrid, it was that he was very bad at keeping secrets.
“So, I saw your match the other day. Mighty fine flying y’did, Harry me boy,” Hagrid said, changing the subject abruptly and slapping the Boy-Who-Lived fondly on the back.
“Yeah, about that,” Harry said slowly.
“We think Snape was trying to hurt Harry!” Ron blurted out. Beside him, Hermione and Susan slapped their foreheads in annoyance.
“What? Tha’s nonsense!” the Groundskeeper scoffed.
“Is it? We saw him staring and mumbling at Harry, and the broom stopped misbehaving after he stopped looking,” Hermione replied. “And I read that some spells can be cast wandlessly!”
“It’s an old broom. They get a little cranky when they get older,” Hagrid protested. “Professor Snape is a good man. Dumbledore trusts him, and that’s that.”
“Trusts him, huh? Is that anything like whatever is up between Nicholas Flamel and Dumbledore?” Ron snarked, causing Hagrid to stammer and splutter.
“Yeah, I’ve got to say, Mr. Hagrid, but Snape is a pretty nasty man,” Hannah said. “He shows exceptional favoritism towards Slytherin House, doesn’t bother to teach us during class, and well, he’s really mean to Neville.”
“Well, that may be, but if Snape were to make a problem, Dumbledore would take care of it. He’s a great man!”
Before Harry could respond to that, a loud noise suddenly rang out from the fireplace, and it sounded like something heavy was rattling around in a pot. Fang whimpered and stepped back from the fireplace.
“What’s that?” Hermione asked, always the curious one.
“Well, it’s getting late, I think you better head on back before Filch catches you!” Hagrid said, hastily ushering the group out. “Here’s some snacks for the road!”
“But it’s only two pm,” Harry protested, even as a bunch of rock-like scones were shoved into his hands.
But Hagrid would have none of it, and they were quickly pushed out of the hut.
“Well, that was weird,” Neville muttered.
“Right? He’s definitely hiding something,” Ron agreed. “What do you think, Harry?”
“About the thing in his fireplace, or the fact he’s clearly putting way too much faith in one man?” Harry asked.
“What do you mean? Are you saying don’t like Dumbledore?” Hermione asked, surprised.
“Gotta be honest, but I’m don’t particularly trust Dumbledore,” Harry admitted to his friends. “He may be a great wizard and all, but he’s… well, he’s made a lot of mistakes recently. Mistakes that have directly affected me.”
“Mmm. My aunt often says she wishes he would just step down from one of his many positions. She has no idea how he manages to spend so much time doing three full-time jobs, but she’s pretty sure he’s abusing Time Turners,” Susan said.
“Time Turners?” Hermione asked, intrigued.
“Oh, they’re this enchanted devices that let you go back in time up to twenty-four hours,” Susan said.
“Wait, what?!” Hermione gasped, and even Harry couldn’t help but stare at the brunette Hufflepuff in disbelief. “You have functional time travel?!”
To her and Harry’s shock, none of the people who’d grown up in the wizarding world seemed all that impressed or surprised.
“Well, yeah. It’s not that impressive,” Neville replied with a shrug, Ron nodding in agreement.
“I-I don’t… huh?!” Hermione spluttered. Hannah patted her on the shoulder sympathetically.
“Yeah, I feel the same way sometimes,” the Hufflepuff assured her. “To clarify, Time Turners are not that impressive. You can’t change the past using a Time Turner. All it’s good for is giving you extra hours in the day.”
“How do you know you can’t change the past?” Harry asked.
“Well, if somebody could, wouldn’t they have already tried?” Hannah replied, which was fair enough.
“I’m sure the Department of Mysteries has some way to detect temporal anomalies,” Susan pointed out. “And like Hannah said, Time Turners only give you a little extra time per day to do things. Which means you’re also aging a little bit faster every time you use one. They’re highly regulated and illegal to use outside of their proscribed methods.”
“Okay, that makes me feel a little bit better,” Hermione replied, heaving a heavy sigh. “Still, to not react at breaking one of the fundamental laws of the universe… you wizards are all crazy!”
Harry bobbed his head rapidly. ‘Maybe Edward was on to something with how the Wizarding World lacks common sense,’ he thought.
“You know, Hagrid did bring up something,” Harry commented. “We still don’t know what the deal is with Nicholas Flamel.”
“Right, yeah, him,” Ron muttered. “Kinda forgot about it in all the hubbub.”
“Yeah. Remember back in February, when Draco challenged me to a duel, but it was obviously a trick to get me in trouble with Filch? That was a mess,” Harry sighed.
“And yet despite knowing it was a trick, you still went,” Neville said, Hermione and Susan both pouting in disapproval.
“Well, yeah. I have my dad’s Invisibility Cloak, so I wasn’t in any danger of being caught. And I kinda wanted to be able to rub it in Malfoy’s face. Did you see how angry he was when I called him out on it?”
“I’ve never seen anybody turn that shade of purple before. At least, not without magic,” Ron commented with a chuckle.
“But yeah, we’ve been distracted. What do you say? Give the library another spin?” Harry suggested.
“Why not?” Susan agreed with a shrug. “But let’s wait till tomorrow, instead. We’ll have more time that way, and we can work on our homework assignments at the same. Perfect cover!”
“That’s a brilliant idea, Susan,” Harry said, flashing her a smile, and she blushed and looked away, muttering it was no big deal.
Confused by the leering grin Hannah shot him, Harry decided to change the topic. “So, since we’re not having tea at Hagrid’s, should we visit the House Elves, see if we can’t get something to go with these scones?”
A round of nods greeted him, and so they headed off in the hopes that the House Elves of Hogwarts could find a way to make even Hagrid’s cooking palatable.
Long story short? The answer was ‘no,’ and the whole adventure ended with many elves weeping at the desecration of the art of cooking, as well as their failure to understand just how Hagrid had made his scones so inedible.
Afterwards, Harry and friends vowed to never introduce any more of Hagrid’s cooking to the poor staff ever again.
&&&&&
The next day, the six friends were in the library bright and early, carefully pouring over the books they’d acquired from across the shelves.
A few hours into their research, a familiar large man lumbered into the library.
“Hullo, boys and girls! Doing well?” Hagrid said in greeting on his way out. He then winced when Madam Pince shushed him.
“Oh, hey, Hagrid,” Harry replied, rubbing his eyes. “Just researching some history, is all.”
“Yer still not looking into Nicholas Flamel, are ye?” Hagrid asked as he looked over the study group.
“What? No! This is… something completely different,” Hermione said, lying badly. Ron facepalmed and Hannah held back a snicker at the barefaced and obvious lie.
Thankfully, Hagrid was too much of a kind and trusting soul, and also someone who wouldn’t know a lie (or sarcasm) if it slapped them in the face. As such, he just nodded happily, a grin peeking out from his bushy beard.
“Tha’s good!” he chortled in a booming voice. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve some books t’check out.”
Hagrid walked away, leaving the First Years alone. All the while, he was trying – and failing – to keep the titles of the books he’d taken from the shelves unseen.
“‘How to Train Your Dragon?’ ‘The Draconic Encyclopedia?’ ‘My Life as a Dragon Tamer?’ Seems like Hagrid is really into dragons,” Harry noted. “I mean, I would be too, knowing they’re real. Think he’d let me borrow ‘em when he’s done?”
“Just wait for him to return the books. Or see if the library has any other books on the subject,” Hermione suggested as she buried her nose into a dense tome about historical figures. “Besides, we still have to find out what we can about Nicholas Flamel.”
“Good point,” Harry replied, before glancing over at the pile of books they were going through. “I guess I’ll start with this one.”
“So, uh, are we just going to ignore the fact that Hagrid was looking up info on dragons?” Neville asked, looking around at his friends in bewilderment as they just returned to looking up information about the mysterious Nicholas Flamel person.
“Huh, do you think that’s why his hut was so bleeding warm when we visited it the other day?” Harry wondered.
“I’m sure it’s fine. He was probably just curious,” Ron said, waving it off while Hannah nodded along. Hermione’s nose was already in another book.
“I think Neville’s right, we should be more worried about this,” Susan spoke up. “Raising a dragon without the appropriate breeder’s license is illegal, and I don’t think Hagrid has one.”
“He could be arrested for it?” Harry asked, concern for the kindly Groundskeeper coloring his voice.
“Absolutely!” Susan said. “Pretty sure it’s illegal to even own a dragon’s egg, let alone hatch it away from one of the dragon preserves. Doesn’t stop some people from trying, though.”
“Yeah, Charlie says half the job at the Romanian Preserve is keeping the poachers out. The other half is cleaning up after the dragons are done with them,” Ron joked.
“Could that be why there’s so much firewood in his house? To keep it warm for the hatching?” Neville mused. “I mean, I’m just assuming here, but wouldn’t a fire-breathing lizard need a lot of heat in order to hatch properly?”
“It would be like Hagrid to do something like this,” Harry said slowly. “I mean, he thinks manticores are just ‘misunderstood.’”
“Yes, but would he really risk going to Azkaban over an egg?” Susan demanded.
Everyone looked at each other, and an uneasy silence fell upon the group. Even Hermione looked up from her reading, an expression of worry on her face.
“HAGRID! WAIT UP!” the First Years screamed as they got up and ran out of the library after the Groundskeeper.
They did not catch up to him in the hallway, unfortunately. No, all they got when they hastily asked a talking painting about it was that Hagrid had already left through the gates. The six of them immediately headed out there in a hurry.
“Curse his longer stride! And curse these stubby legs of ours!” Hannah grimaced as they jogged towards his hut.
“Hagrid! Hold up!” Harry called out, but he was too far ahead – or too distracted – to hear them, and he slipped inside his hut.
Ron reached the door first out of the group and hammered on it while the rest caught their breath as they came to a halt. On the other side, they could hear Fang barking wildly at the knocking, excited for visitors.
“What’s the matter? What’s all the ruckus about?” Hagrid demanded, opening the door a crack, only to pause as he saw who it was.
“Hagrid!” Neville panted. “Don’t… don’t do what you’re thinking of doing!”
“Beg pardon?” the large man muttered.
“Hagrid, we know you’ve got a dragon egg in there,” Harry gasped out. Seeing the Groundskeeper’s eyes widen told them that yes, that was indeed the case.
“I dun know what yer talking about,” Hagrid tried to deflect.
“Hagrid, if we could figure it out, other people will do so as well,” Susan pointed.
“It’s crazy that you’re trying to hatch a dragon in a wooden house, by the way,” Hannah stated.
“My home’s fireproofed. You don’t think I’d building a flammable hut near the Forbidden Forest, do ya?” Hagrid replied. “And, err, I still don’t know why you think I have a dragon egg. Which I don’t!”
Harry shot him an incredulous look. “Hagrid… a roaring fire plus enough firewood to build an extension to your hut? You borrowing all the books in the library on dragons? I bet if we looked around we’d see evidence of you going on hunts for fresh meat or whatever it is dragon babies eat!”
“They’re called whelps,” Hagrid informed him. “And they eat meat that’s been seared or slightly burnt.”
“You’re just digging yourself deeper,” Hannah muttered.
“Argh, fine!” Hagrid grumbled. “Come on in, then.”
He ushered the group inside, then took out a cauldron from within the blazing fireplace.
“It’s true, I got myself a dragon egg,” he admitted, showing them the contents. Inside, a nice big egg could be seen, resting in a bunch of hot sand that filled the bottom of the cauldron. The shell was a beautiful bronze color, and it was smooth – and probably red hot to the touch.
“Bloody hell! That’s a real dragon egg, alright,” Ron muttered, then jerked back as the egg twitched violently within its ‘nest.’
“It’s it beautiful?” Hagrid sniffled.
“Yeah, in the ‘spend ten years at best in Azkaban’ sort of way,” Hannah snarked. Hagrid didn’t hear her, as he was too engrossed in caring for the egg.
“I’m thinking of naming ‘em ‘Norbert.’ What do you think?” he asked the group.
“It’s certainly… unique,” Susan offered up with a weak smile. Hagrid just beamed.
The First Years didn’t hang around the hut for much longer after that, and headed back to the castle to discuss their next move.
“A knut says Hagrid gets found out before the end of the school year,” Ron said as they walked towards the looming structure.
“Sucker’s bet, Ron,” Neville scoffed.
“Yeah, I doubt he can keep a dragon secret. Like, at all,” Susan said with a shake of her head. “He’d be parading it around the grounds on a leash soon as it can walk.”
“That sounds… yeah, that sounds like a ‘Hagrid’ thing he’d do,” Harry sighed. A thought then struck the dark-haired boy, and he turned to his red-haired friend.
“Ron? You said you had a brother who works in a dragon reserve?” Harry asked, and the youngest Weasley boy nodded slowly.
“Yeah, Charlie, over in Romania. Why?”
“I think we need somebody better equipped and trained to handle this,” the Boy-Who-Lived claimed.
“You want to have someone come in and take the egg away before it can hatch?” Susan guessed.
“Yup,” Harry confirmed. When Susan just nodded in agreement, he couldn’t help but ask, “I thought you’d have something else to say about the idea. Isn’t your aunt a law enforcer, or something?”
“Her Auntie Bones is the head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement,” Hannah confirmed, causing Harry’s eyes to widen in surprise.
“Yeah, she’s pretty important,” Susan said proudly. “And as such, I know all about the trouble she goes through at work. Opening up an investigation or whatever else that would happen if we told the authorities about Hagrid and his dragon egg would just make a lot of paperwork and busywork. Better to have someone solve the problem on the downlow.”
“Well, you’re the expert,” Neville said, accepting the answer with a shrug.
“But, but that’s… that’s breaking the rules!” Hermione gasped in horror.
“Yeah, but it still solves the problem,” Susan pointed out. “If Ron’s brother can take the egg back, I don’t see why we wouldn’t do so. Besides, do you want to have people know Hagrid broke the law?”
“…No,” Hermione admitted after a moment. “But it just feels… wrong.”
“You know what they say, right? Rules were meant to be broken,” Harry joked. Hermione let out an indignant gasp at that as her expression twisted one of shocked horror at his words, and it thankfully distracted her from what they were planning.
“So, which of us is going to break it to Hagrid he has to give up his dragon egg before it hatches?” Neville asked, looking around the group.
Harry shared a knowing glance with Ron before putting a finger to their noses, simultaneously shouting “Not it!” as they did so. Hannah and Susan quickly shouted it as well a moment later, and even Neville caught on, exclaiming the words, leaving Hermione perplexed and looking at them in confusion before realizing what had happened.
“Ugh, fine, I’ll tell him!” Hermione groaned.
“So, what was that you two just did?” Susan asked.
“It’s called the Nose Game,” Harry explained.
“Edward taught you that game too, huh?” Ron guessed.
“He did,” Harry nodded. “Great way to solve an argument about who has to do something.”
“That it is,” Ron agreed, before frowning. “Although the Twins are way too good at it. They’re always faster than everyone else.”
“Speaking of, I’m going to send him a letter,” Harry announced. “I think between this egg thing with Hagrid and figuring out why Snape tried to hex me during my match, we won’t have much time to do any more investigating on Nicholas Flamel.”
“Mm. Makes sense,” Neville agreed.
“I’ll write to Charlie, then. Hopefully he can help us,” Ron said, and everyone nodded in agreement.
“Well, let’s pray this is the last of the excitement we have to deal with for the year,” Harry said hopefully. For some reason, Hannah burst into a giggling fit while Hermione and Susan tried to stifle their own snorts of amusement.
When Harry looked to Ron and Neville for help, they just shrugged.
“Yeah, sorry mate, but you kinda tempted fate just now,” Ron said.
“Don’t worry, Harry, we’ll stand with you, no matter what trouble you end up getting in to,” Neville promised.
“Oi! Why do you make it sound like this is all my fault?!” Harry demanded petulantly, which only sparked a fresh round of laughter from the girls. “I mean it! I’m not a trouble magnet! I’m not!”
Nobody believed his protests, sadly, and the trek back into the castle was a mirthful one for five out of six students in their little group.
