Disclaimer: See Chapter 1.

A/N: Hooray! Chapter 9 is finally done!

As A Bat
Nicolas And Norbert

Dumbledore had convinced Harry not to go searching for the Mirror of Erised again, and for the rest of the Christmas holidays the invisibility cloak stayed folded at the bottom of his trunk. Sometimes, late at night, that he wished he'd never entered that room, as he was assaulted by nightmares of his parents disappearing in a flash of light, the same light he'd always seen in his darkest nightmares. Only now, his imagination had something to play with. And the high cackling laughter was always present.

"I'm glad you listened to Dumbledore on this one, Harry," said Blaise when Harry told him about the dreams. "He said the Mirror could drive you mad, and this is likely one of the ways."

Hermione, who came back the day before term started, took a different view of things. She was torn between horror at the idea of the boys being out of bed, roaming the school three nights in a row, and disappointment that he hadn't at least found out who Nicolas Flamel was.

They had almost given up hope of ever finding Flamel in a library book, even thought Harry was still sure he'd either read or heard the name somewhere. Once term had started, they were back to skimming through books for ten minutes during their breaks.

Harry and Blaise were the only two Slytherins to have access to the Gryffindor common room, just as Ron was the only Gryffindor allowed anywhere near Slytherin, though that was only when it was just Harry and Blaise. No one else would have allowed it. All of Gryffindor had no problems with Harry or Blaise, as both boys went out of their way to ream anyone who tried to choose their friends for them.

Quidditch was the talk of the room, with all the Gryffs worried that Professor Snape, who had chosen for some odd reason to referee the next match, wouldn't be fair when dealing out points and penalties. Fred and George were both trying to come up with some way to put the man out of commission for the duration of the game, and Harry finally told them to do their plotting where he couldn't hear them. "I want plausible deniability, and that means you two can't be anywhere near me. Don't forget to use a Silencing Charm, either. You know how well I can hear."

Fred's voice was full of laughter. "Don't worry, mate."

George finished. "We wouldn't get you into trouble!"

"Yeah, you and Zabini are the only likeable ones in your house, and we'd kind of like to keep you healthy."

At that moment, there was a crash. Harry turned defensively toward the sound, but Ron put a hand on his shoulder. "It's Neville. Someone's used the Leg-Locker Curse on him."

Blaise made a sympathetic noise deep in his throat. "Poor bloke must have had to bunny-hop all the way up the tower."

Hermione was quick with the countercurse, freeing Neville's limbs and allowing him to get to his feet. "What happened?" she asked him, leading him to a chair so that he could rest his tortured leg muscles.

"Malfoy." Harry quickly became angry, knowing what was coming. "I met him outside the library. He said he'd been looking for someone to practice that on."

"Go to Professor McGonagall!" Hermione urged Neville. "Report him!"

"I don't want more trouble," he mumbled.

"Neville," Harry started, "You have got to stand up for yourself. Malfoy's used to getting whatever he wants, and he's more than a little irritated right now because that's not happening. If you, among the whole school, stand your ground, he won't know what hit him."

"You know, Malfoy told me I'm not brave enough to be in Gryffindor, and I think he's right."

"Bollocks." Harry handed him the last Chocolate Frog in the pile they'd had going. "You're worth twelve of him, and I'm his housemate, so I know. The Sorting Hat knows what it's doing, and it put you in this house for a reason."

Neville's voice seemed a bit lighter as he responded. "Thanks, Harry...I think I'll go to bed...D'you want the card, Ron? You collect them, don't you?"

Once Neville had gone on up, Ron messed with the card. "Dumbledore again. How many of him am I --" Ron gasped. "It can't be that simple!"

Harry turned around to face him. "What?"

"The Chocolate Frog cards, Harry! Remember?"

"That's it! Read it, Ron!"

Ron quickly read the back of the card aloud. "'Dumbledore is particularly famous for his defeat of the dark wizard Grindewald in 1945, for the discovery of the twelve uses of dragon's blood, and his work on alchemy with his partner, Nicolas Flamel!'"

Hermione jumped to her feet, obviously excited. "Stay there!" she said, and she could be heard running. Harry tracked her progress as she ran up the stairs to the girls dormitory. Then she came back. "I never though to look in here!" she whispered excitedly. "I checked this out of the library weeks ago for a bit of light reading."

Ron's incredulous "Light!?" was ignored, Harry and Blaise paying close attention to the genius of Gryffindor. Pages were turned frantically as she searched for the remembered reference. "I knew it! I knew it! Nicholas Flamel is the only know maker of the Philosopher's Stone!"

"The what?"

Hermione huffed. "Honestly, Ron, don't you read?"

Harry, though, had no trouble with knowing exactly what the bushy haired Gryffindor was talking about. "The Philosopher's Stone has been at the center of the study of alchemy for millennia. Even the Muggles know about it, though they believe it only to be a legend. It can turn any metal into pure gold and can produce the Elixir of Life, which will make the drinker immortal."

There was a broad grin in Hermione's voice. "Exactly!" She took out her wand and cast Reddo over the text. "Here, read this paragraph." She guided Harry's hand to the exact passage she wanted him to read.

Blaise gave a low whistle. "No wonder someone's trying to steal it. Who wouldn't want a stone that makes gold and stops you from ever dying?"

During the next Quidditch match, Harry decided he'd take a swing 'round the castle on one of the school brooms. Not long after Christmas, Fred and George had experimented with Harry a bit on what noises made the clearest images for him to "see" by. They'd found that he had a much higher threshold than most people. He could hear dog whistles, in fact. Lower sounds, too, made an impression, but it was on his skin rather than his ears, and such was more useful at close range than for navigation. Finally, they'd settled on the sonar of bats, which Harry'd already discovered worked well for him during the Halloween feast. As a late Christmas, they'd given him a charmed pendant of a bat in flight. At the spell Chiroptero Insonui, the bat would issue the sounds of its kind. It was amazing just how far and in what detail he could see through the sounds. His "vision" was close to twenty/twenty using the bat at normal volume, and he could lower that volume during classes (except for Potions; Snape wouldn't stand for it) and he could do anything but read English or look at art.

The sounds were perfect to fly by, and while he couldn't hear quite as well as a bat, the sonar provided him the same navigational accuracy as it gave them. And Harry was born to be on a broom. The twins had told him that his father, James Potter, had been the Gryffindor Seeker in his day, one of the best. It seemed that flying was in his blood. He was only grateful that, through the efforts of Madame Hooch and the Weasly twins, he had discovered just how much of his father's gift was in him.

He heard the roar of the crowd from the Quidditch pitch, barely able to discern that Slytherin had won the match. Good. From everything he'd heard, Higgs really was an excellent Seeker. Hopefully the older boy would one day be able to play for a professional team. The roar indicated the end of the game, and everyone would be headed to dinner next, but Harry didn't want to give up the feeling of being in the air just yet.

As he flew, he heard a familiar figure coming swiftly down the front steps of the castle. Clearly not wanting to be seen, it walked as fast as possible toward the forbidden forest. The thrill of flight faded from Harry's mind as he listened. He recognized the figure's prowling walk. Snape, sneaking into the forest while everyone else was at dinner -- what was going on?

Curiosity got to him, so careful to fly silently, Harry followed Snape as the man passed the tree line. The trees were thick, muffling sounds that might come from inside the forest, so he dove in, careful to listen for branches and animals as he searched for his head of house. Finally, he heard voices and went even lower in the trees, landing himself on the sturdy branch of a towering beech tree.

Silencing his bat so that he wouldn't be discovered, he climbed carefully along the branch, holding tight to it and the broomstick and listening to the conversation below. It was Snape and Quirrell, the Defense teacher easily recognizable by his stutter, which was worse than ever. Harry listened intently to what they were saying.

"...d-don't know why you wanted t-t-to meet here of all p-places, Severus..."

"Oh, I thought we'd keep this private," said Snape, his voice icy. "Students aren't supposed to know about the Philosopher's Stone, after all."

Harry frowned. Surely he hadn't misjudged Snape that badly. He couldn't be the one after the Stone, could he?

Quirrell mumbled something, but Snape interrupted him. "Have you found out how to get past that beast of Hagrid's yet?"

"B-b-but Severus, I don't--"

"You don't want me as your enemy, Quirrell," said Snape, taking a step toward him. "You know perfectly well what I mean. Don't think I didn't catch your little bit of hocus-pocus. I'm waiting."

"B-but I d-d-don't--"

"Very well," Snape cut in. "We'll have another little chat soon, when you've had time to think things over and decided where your loyalties lie."

Cloth swished around and Snape left the clearing. Quirrell was left behind in the forest.

When Harry finally got back to the castle and entered the Great Hall, he found the Hall in an uproar, boys from Slytherin and Gryffindor at each other's throats. Neville was unconscious, Crabbe and Goyle both on the ground nursing injuries the nervous youth had given them, and Ron and Draco were still at it, Ron with a bloody nose and Draco with a black eye.

Harry was instantly angry, and he pulled from that anger to fuel his power. He threw the fighters into the wall, and none to gently either. "What the hell is going on in here!?"

Neither boy said a word.

Professor McGonagall came up behind them. "A valid question, gentlemen. Although I think we could do without the language, Mr. Potter."

"Sorry." The others still didn't speak.

"Very well. Ten points from each person who was fighting. And five points to Mr. Potter for stopping you. Everyone get to your dorms, immediately." Then McGonagall left.

Harry whipped his shades off his face and glared at Ron and Draco through his dead eyes. "I'm tired of this. You don't have to like each other, but if you don't stop fighting, then it's me you'll be facing! Stay away from the Gryffindors, Malfoy, and learn to ignore him, Weasly. I'm not joking; I'll pound you both into the ground, and I won't be using magic to do it. This foolish rivalry has gone on more than long enough!" Then he stormed over to the Gryffindor table and asked Fred and George if they'd mind him eating with them.

Fred said, "Sure, mate."

George finished for him. "But you might want to put your shades on."

Harry growled. "Sorry. God, those two annoy me!" He replaced his sunglasses and ate the meal in front of him.

George was grinning. "And boy, are you fun when you're riled!"

"Noticed you didn't do anything to Neville, though." Fred's grin mirrored his twin.

"Well, it's about time that one stood up for himself. I'm glad for him."

That night, Harry told Blaise what he'd overheard in the forest. "Do you think Snape's trying to steal the Stone, Harry?"

The blind boy shook his head. "No, I don't. I know, he seems like the type, but it just doesn't sound right. He doesn't like me, not at all. But I get the feeling that Slytherin house is as close as anything outside his lab comes to being his pride and joy. If for no other reason than that I'm one of his Slytherins, I don't think he'd kill me. And from that conversation, I'd imagine it's Quirrell who's after the Stone and who tried to kill me. The two things can't be unrelated because I doubt seriously that there's more than one person doing this. Dumbledore might miss one, but not a flock of traitors amidst his teachers."

Blaise inclined his head. "True. So, let's see what we have so far. If Quirrell's the one after the Stone, then he's bigger stones than anyone's given him credit for. The whole stuttering act is just that, an act."

Harry nodded. "Which means he was the one who let the troll in on Halloween. A distraction."

"But then how did Snape get bitten by the dog?"

"He went to head Quirrell off. Snape is very aware that he's after the Stone. He tried to deny it, but Snape's no fool. He's just giving Quirrell a chance to change his mind."

Blaise nodded slowly. "Okay. It all makes sense. Now, what do we do about it? Snape won't be happy that you followed him, so I don't think telling him what we know would be a good idea. Besides, he already knows what we know."

"Yeah, I didn't intend on saying anything just yet, but if we do find something else out, we can drop him an anonymous owl. He'd be stupid to ignore it, so it will at least be investigated."

"That'll work."

Spring thaw came and Richard was finally able to come out of hibernation. Harry was glad to welcome him back once he'd gotten out of his grouchy stage and had eaten something, happy to have him to talk to again. He told the little snake about everything that had gone on with the Philosopher's Stone. Richard was concerned that Harry might be getting into something very dangerous.

"I know. Someone's afraid for some reason that I'm a threat to them. I think it's Quirrell. His lessons teach us nothing of consequence and he stutters, as if he were afraid of everything, but sometimes I just know he's staring at me. And there's something else. He's not alone. He's never alone. Something is with him, but I can't figure it out. It feels like wandless magic, that charge in the air that none of the other students seem to feel."

Richard thought about it. "Use your nose."

Harry blinked. "What?"

"You smell things better than any other human I've ever known. See if you can smell what's different."

Harry grinned. "That's a very good idea, but I don't think it will work. He keeps garlic everywhere."

"Then he is most likely hiding something."

Harry nodded. "You're right. But that's hardly proof, and I plan to have plenty of evidence before I go accusing a teacher of trying to steal something."

Richard agreed. "Of course. No snake should try to eat something that won't fit in their throat."

He grinned again. "That's right. We'll leave that up to the lions."

Easter holidays came closer and Harry, along with everyone else, had to focus more on their studies. Exams were ten weeks away and the teachers piled so much homework on them that Easter wasn't nearly as much fun as Christmas had been. He couldn't really relax, spending half of his free time in the library with his extra work.

On one such day, the first really fine day they'd had in months, he was doing the same. The air felt like the coming summer, like the time had come to plant his corn in the back garden of the orphanage, like there would no longer be any fear of frost. He was looking up "Dittany" in One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi, and he didn't pay attention to what was going on around him until he heard Ron say, "Hagrid! What are you doing in the library?"

Harry thought, Well that was rude. Assuming Hagrid wouldn't have any reason to be in the library. It was an insult to the man's intelligence! After all, he didn't seem to have any trouble absorbing information, only with keeping it to himself. Easy trust didn't indicate stupidity, only foolishness.

Hagrid shuffled closer to them. "Just' lookin'," he said, in a shifty voice that got Harry's attention at once. "An' what're you lot up ter?" He sounded suddenly suspicious as he addressed Harry, Ron, Hermione and Blaise. "Yer not still lookin' fer Nicolas Flamel, are yeh?"

"Oh, we found out who he is ages ago," said Ron impressively. "And we know what--"

Harry interrupted. "Ron. Why don't you look up the word discretion for me in the dictionary, hmm?" Honestly, did the boy have to spill just as much information as Hagrid? "Hagrid, I did want to ask you about what else might be guarding a certain thing."

Hagrid just sighed. "Listen -- come an' see me later, I'm not promisin' I'll tell yeh anythin', mind. An' don' tell no one 'bout this, either. They'll think I've told yeh --"

"See you later, then," said Harry.

Hagrid shuffled off.

"What was he hiding behind his back?" said Hermione thoughtfully.

Ron said, "Do you think it had anything to do with the -- um, thing?" He remembered Harry's comment about discretion.

Blaise stood up. "Why don't we go see what section he was in." Blaise and Ron went over to the stacks, Ron following without complaint because he was tired of working. They came back a minute later with a couple piles of books and dropped them onto the table.

"Dragons!" whispered Ron. "Hagrid was looking up stuff about dragons! Look at these: Dragon Species of Great Britain and Ireland; From Egg to Inferno, A Dragon Keeper's Guide."

"Hagrid's always wanted a dragon, he told me so the first time I ever met him," said Harry.

"But it's against our laws," said Ron.

Blaise said, "Yeah. Dragon breeding was outlawed by the Warlock's Convention of 1709, everyone knows that. Of course, that doesn't mean that everyone is going to follow the law. Several of the richer pureblood families keep smaller species as guards for their properties. You can't really tame dragons, though, which makes keeping them rather dangerous."

Ron piped up again. "You should see the burns Charlie's got off wild ones in Romania."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "There are wild dragons in Britain?"

"Yeah, the Common Welsh Green and Hebridean Blacks. The Ministry of Magic has a job hushing them up, I can tell you. Our kind have to keep putting spells on Muggles who've spotted them, to make them forget."

Harry remembered a wild story that Mark Summers had told just three years ago about being in the park and seeing this gigantic black and green dragon swooping down on a stray dog. He made a mental note to look through those books and see if it had been such a wild story after all.

"So what on earth's Hagrid up to?" said Hermione.

When they knocked on the door of the gamekeeper's hut an hour later, all but Harry were surprised to see that all the curtains were closed. Hagrid called "Who is it?" before he let them in, and then he shut the door quickly behind them.

It was stifling hot inside. Even though it was such a warm day, there was a blazing fire in the grate. Hagrid made them tea and offered them stoat sandwiches, which they refused.

"So -- yeh wanted to ask me somethin'?"

"Yes," said Harry. There was no point beating around the bush. "We were wondering if you could tell us what's guarding the Philosopher's Stone apart from Fluffy."

Hagrid frowned at him. "O' course I can't," he said. "Number one, I don' know meself. Number two, yeh know too much already, so I wouldn' tell yeh if I could. That Stone's here fer a good reason. It was almost stolen outta Gringotts -- I s'ppose yeh've worked that out an' all? Beats me how yeh even know abou' Fluffy."

"Oh, come on, Hagrid, you might not want to tell us, but you do know, you know everything that goes on 'round here," said Hermione in a warm, flattering voice. "We only wondered who had done the guarding, really." She went on. "We wondered who Dumbledore had trusted enough to help him, apart from you."

Harry grinned. Good work, m'girl.

"Well, I don' s'ppose it could hurt ter tell yeh that...let's see...he borrowed Fluffy from me...then some o' the teachers did enchantments...Professor Sprout -- Professor Flitwick -- Professor McGonagall -- Professor Quirrell -- an' Dumbledore himself did somethin', o' course. Hang on, I've forgotten someone. Oh yeah, Professor Snape."

"Snape?"

Harry snorted. "Oh come off it, Ron. I really don't think it's him. He saved my life at that Quidditch practice." But that didn't comfort him as much as it should have. After all, one of the ones who was supposed to be protecting the Stone was Quirrell. He probably could have found out what the other enchantments were easily, with the most likely exceptions of how to get past Fluffy, Snape's spell, and Dumbledore's. "You're the only one who knows how to get past Fluffy, aren't you Hagrid?" said Harry. "And you wouldn't tell anyone would you? Not even one of the teachers? After all, someone might overhear you."

"Not a soul knows except me an' Dumbledore," said Hagrid proudly.

"Well good. Hagrid, can we have a window open? I'm boiling."

"Can't, Harry, sorry," said Hagrid.

Harry noticed that Hagrid's attention seemed distracted. Then he noticed a strange smell in the air, a burnt smell, just slightly sulphuric. "Hagrid -- did you burn some eggs in here?"

Blaise was the one who spotted it. "Hagrid, why are you hatching that thing inside!?"

The facts instantly clicked in Harry's mind; all the books Hagrid had been looking at on dragon care. He'd gotten himself a dragon's egg.

"Where did you get it, Hagrid?" said Ron, who had moved closer to the fire, probably to get a closer look at the egg. "It must've cost you a fortune."

"Won it," said Hagrid. "Las' night. I was down in the village havin' a few drinks an' got into a game o' cards with a stranger. Think he was quite glad ter get rid of it, ter be honest."

"But what are you going to do with it when it's hatched?" said Hermione.

"Well I've bin doin' some readin'," said Hagrid. Harry could hear shuffling cloth. "Got this outta the library -- Dragon Breeding for Pleasure and Profit -- it's a bit outta date, o' course, but it's all in here. Keep the egg in the fire, 'cause their mothers breathe on 'em, see, an' when it hatches, feed it on a bucket o' brandy mixed with chicken blood every half hour. An' see here -- how ter recognize diff'rent eggs -- what I got there's a Norwegian Ridgeback. They're rare, them." He sounded very pleased with himself.

Harry felt he had to point something out to the large man. "Hagrid, you live in a wooden house."

But Hagrid wasn't listening. He was humming merrily as he stoked the fire.

So now there was something else to worry about: what might happen to Hagrid if anyone found out he was hiding an illegal dragon in his hut, as well as whether the beast would accidentally kill the person who was taking care of it. Harry just knew that something was going to happen and he wouldn't be able to stay with Hagrid over the summer, namely because the big man or his house would be gone.

On top of that, they had to wade through the extra homework evening after evening. Hermione had started making study schedules for all the Gryffindors, as well as Harry and Blaise. Harry didn't mind, but it was driving Ron and Blaise nuts.

Then, one breakfast time, Hedwig brought Harry another note from Hagrid. He had written only two words: It's hatching.

Ron was all for skipping class and going straight down to the hut, but the other three wouldn't hear of it. "Hermione, how many times in our lives are we going to get the chance to see a dragon hatching?"

"We've got lessons, we'll get into trouble, and that's nothing to what Hagrid's going to be in when someone finds out what he's doing--"

"Shut up!" Harry whispered.

Malfoy, who had taken to wearing a new cologne, was only a few feet away and he had stopped dead to listen. How much had he heard?

Ron and Hermione bickered all the way to Herbology. Harry said, "We can run down to Hagrid's during morning break. That's not so unusual that it would draw attention to us." Everyone agreed, and when the bell sounded from the castle at the end of their lesson, the four of them dropped their trowels at once and hurried through the grounds to the edge of the forest. Hagrid greeted them, looking flushed and excited.

"It's nearly out." He ushered them inside.

The egg was lying on the table, There were deep cracks in it. Something was moving inside; a funny clicking noise was coming from it as the infant fought it's way free.

They all drew their chairs up to the table and watched (or listened) with bated breath.

All at once there was a scraping noise and the egg split open. The baby dragon flopped onto the table with a leathery sound and a squawk. Then it sneezed. Harry felt the heat coming from it when it did.

"Isn't he beautiful?" Hagrid murmured. There was a snapping sound, and Harry thought the infant had probably snapped at Hagrid. "Bless him, look, he knows his mummy.!"

"Hagrid," said Hermione, "How fast do Norwegian Ridgebacks grow, exactly?"

Hagrid was about to answer when he suddenly gasped -- he leapt to his feet and ran to the window.

"What's the matter?" asked Harry.

Someone was lookin' through the gap in the curtains -- it's a kid -- he's runnin' back up ter the school."

Harry and Blaise bolted to the door. Harry could smell the cologne and even at a distance there was no mistaking who it was for Blaise. Malfoy had seen the dragon.

Something about the way Malfoy was so quiet over the next way gave Harry a bad feeling. Two Gryffindors and two Slytherins spent all their free time in Hagrid's darkened hut, trying to reason with him. Finally, Harry was the one who got through to him. The combined smells of chicken blood, alcohol, and the burnt grape smell of brandy flambé that was the result of the little dragon's furnace all permeated the hut. Thankfully, dragons had remarkably efficient digestion, so they didn't defecate. Any waste products were fuel for the fire, literally.

Already, Norbert had tripled in length, and he was only a week old. And he was going to keep growing at that rate for at least six months! "Hagrid," reasoned Harry, "give it two weeks and Norbert is going to be as long as your house. And Malfoy could go to Dumbledore at any moment."

Hagrid bit his lip. "I -- I know I can't keep him forever, but I can't jus' dump him. I can't. He'll die at this stage wi'out proper care."

Suddenly an idea sparked. "Charlie."

"I'm Ron, remember?"

Harry's hand was perfectly aimed for the light swat at the back of Ron's head. "No -- Charlie -- your brother, Charlie. In Romania, studying dragons. We could send Norbert to him. Charlie can take care of him and then put him back in the wild! It'll be perfect! That way he can find himself a nice girlfriend when he gets old enough." Blaise sniggered.

"Brilliant!" said Ron. "How about it, Hagrid?"

And in the end, Hagrid agreed that they could send an owl to Charlie to ask him.

The following week dragged by. Wednesday night found Hermione and Harry sitting alone in the Gryffindor common room, long after everyone else had gone to bed. Blaise had remained in Slytherin that night, trying to stave off Malfoy with questions on his Potions homework. Ron was down with Hagrid helping to feed Norbert, who was now eating dead rats by the crate.

Suddenly the portrait hole opened and Ron appeared out of nowhere as he pulled off Harry's invisibility cloak. "It bit me!" He showed them his hand, which was wrapped in a bloody handkerchief. "I'm not going to be able to hold a quill for a week. I tell you that dragon's the most horrible animal I've ever met, but the way Hagrid goes on about it, you'd think it was a fluffy little bunny rabbit. When it bit me he told me off for frightening it. And when I left, he was singing it a lullaby."

There was a tap on the window pane from an owl's beak. "That'll be Hedwig!" said Harry, hurrying to let her in. "She'll have Charlie's answer."

The three of them put their heads together to read the note.

They looked at one another. "This is getting bloody complex, isn't it." Harry sighed. "We've got the invisibility cloak. It shouldn't be too difficult -- I think the cloak's big enough to cover two of us and him. They agreed. It was the only way to get rid of Norbert -- and Malfoy's ability to get them in trouble.

There was a hitch. By the next morning, Ron's bitten hand had swollen to twice its usual size. He didn't know whether it was safe to go to Madame Pomfrey -- would she recognize a dragon bite? By the afternoon, though, he had no choice. The cut had turned a nasty shade of green. It looked as if Norbert's fangs were poisonous.

Harry, Blaise and Hermione rushed up to the hospital wing at the end of the day to find Ron in a terrible state in bed. It's not just my hand," he whispered, "although that feels like it's about to fall off. Malfoy told Madame Pomfrey he wanted to borrow one of my books so he could come and have a good laugh at me. He kept threatening to tell her what really bit me -- I've told her it was a dog, but I don't think she believes me -- I shouldn't have hit him after the Quidditch match, that's why he's doing this."

"It'll all be over at midnight on Saturday," said Hermione, trying to calm him.

But it didn't work. On the contrary, a nasty word flew out of his mouth. "Midnight on Saturday!" he said in a hoarse voice. "Oh, no -- oh no -- I've just remembered -- Charlie's letter was in that book Malfoy took, he's going to know we're getting rid of Norbert."

They didn't get the chance to answer as Madame Pomfrey swept back into the area and made them leave, saying Ron needed sleep.

"It's too late to change the plan now," Harry told the other two. We haven't got time to send Charlie another owl, and this could be our only chance to get rid of Norbert. We'll have to risk it. And we have got the invisibility cloak, Malfoy doesn't know about that."

Saturday night, Blaise stayed behind in the Slytherin dorms, trying to belay any suspicions the others might hold on the night's goings on. Harry and Hermione were the ones who would be the ones to get Norbert up to the Astronomy Tower, Harry for his extraordinary hearing and Hermione for her magical skill. It was the perfect night for it, dark and cloudy, which would aid the men coming in to take the little dragon. Harry and Hermione were a bit late arriving at Hagrid's hut because they'd had to wait for Peeves to get out of their way in the entrance hall, where he'd been playing tennis against the wall.

Hagrid had Norbert packed and ready in a large crate. "He's got lots o' rats an' some brandy fer the journey," said Hagrid in a muffled voice. "An' I've packed his teddy bear in case he gets lonely." From inside the crate came ripping noises that sounded to Harry as though the teddy was having his head torn off. "Bye-bye, Norbert!" Hagrid sobbed, as Harry and Hermione covered the crate with the invisibility cloak and stepped underneath it themselves. "Mummy will never forget you!"

How they managed to get the crate back up to the castle, the never knew. Midnight ticked nearer as they heaved Norbert up the marble staircase in the entrance hall and along the quiet corridors. Up another staircase, then another -- even one of Harry's shortcuts didn't make the work much easier.

"Nearly there!" Harry panted as they reached the corridor beneath the tallest tower. Then a sudden movement ahead of them made them almost drop the crate. Instinctively, they shrank as close to the wall as they could get, praying that Norbert would keep quiet, listening to or staring at two people grappling with each other ten feet away.

Professor McGonagall shouted, "Detention! And twenty points from Slytherin! Wandering around in the middle of the night, how dare you --"

Harry had a heart-stopping moment when he thought that McGonagall had somehow seen him, but Malfoy's voice interrupted her. "You don't understand, Professor. Harry Potter's coming -- he's got a dragon!"

"What utter rubbish! How dare you tell such lies! Come on -- I shall see Professor Snape about you, Malfoy!"

The steep spiral staircase up to the top of the tower seemed the easiest thing in the world after that. Not until they'd stepped out into the cold night air did they throw off the cloak, glad to be able to breathe properly again. Hermione giggled. "Malfoy's got detention! I could sing!"

"Don't. The bloody tattle tail!"

Chuckling about Malfoy, they waited, Norbert thrashing about in his crate. About ten minutes later, four broomsticks came swooping down out of the silent night.

Charlie's friends were a cheery lot. They had rigged a harness so they could suspend Norbert between them. They all helped buckle Norbert safely into it and then Harry and Hermione shook hands with the others and thanked them very much. At last, Norbert was going...going...gone.

They covered themselves in the cloak again and slipped back down the spiral staircase, their hearts as light as their hands, now that Norbert was off them. No more dragon -- Malfoy in detention -- what could spoil their happiness?

The answer to that was waiting at the foot of the stairs. Peeves blew by them at tremendous speed, and the cloak fell to the steps behind them as they stepped into the corridor and Filch's voice came quietly out of the space in front of them. "Well, well, well," he whispered, "we are in trouble."

Lest it be discovered and confiscated, they were forced to leave the cloak where it lay as they continued on under the watchful eyes of the caretaker.

Another one out of the way. This one was long, but I finally got it done! Review please!

Chapter 10