MARCH 29TH, 1991

The next morning, Harry paced back and forth outside the Ravenclaw common room, waiting anxiously for Hermione. The corridor seemed to stretch endlessly before him, adorned with tapestries depicting medieval wizards in grandiose battles. His eyes kept flicking nervously to the bronze knocker on the door, shaped like an eagle, as if expecting it to suddenly come to life and deliver some ominous message.

Nervousness gripped him, but it wasn't solely because of Malfoy's looming threats. No, there was something else gnawing at him, something he couldn't quite put his finger on. Was it the weight of responsibility for Norberta's fate? Or perhaps the fear of the unknown consequences of their plan?

As he pondered, a gust of wind swept through the corridor, causing the torches on the walls to flicker wildly. Harry shivered, the chill of uncertainty creeping into his bones. Deep down, he knew there was another reason for his nerves, a reason he hesitated to acknowledge, even to himself.

The answer stared him in the face as the door opened up. Hermione’s eyes perked up as she saw him. “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t know you had been waiting. How long…?”

“Not long,” Harry said, sheepishly. “Just was looking at the door. “Who do you tell the password to?”

Hermione shook her head, “No password here. At least, not like the Gryffindor one. It’s a riddle you solve. Here, watch,” she turned and knocked the bronze eagle once. Its eyes seemed to shift as if to blink and its head curved up.

“To enter where wisdom gleams and knowledge reigns. Solve this riddle, let not your intellect wane:”

I'm lighter than air, yet a burden to bear,

Invisible, intangible, yet always there.

I can lift up your spirits or weigh down your soul,

I'm the essence of thought, the mind's sacred goal.

What am I?

Harry's brows furrowed in concentration as he pondered the riddle, his mind whirring with possible solutions. After a brief moment of silence, he shrugged, admitting defeat. "I dunno, what is it?"

Hermione's smile widened as she turned back to the knocker. "Thoughts," she replied confidently.

Harry mulled over her answer, recognizing the logic behind it. Indeed, thoughts could be both weighty and transformative, capable of shaping one's perception and actions. As he reflected on this, he couldn't help but notice the soft glow of Hermione's smile in the flickering light, a thought that lingered in his mind like a cherished memory.

"It changes every week, so it usually takes me a few minutes to come to the right answer," Hermione explained, her tone matter-of-fact yet tinged with pride.

"Right," Harry agreed with a nod. "I’ve got Astronomy next up, so I'd like to see him before then."

“Oh yes, of course,” said Hermione. “I’m gonna be in the library for much of today studying, so that works out perfectly."

Harry and Hermione dashed up the winding staircase leading to the hospital wing, their footsteps echoing in the empty corridor. Anxiety gnawed at their insides, each step feeling heavier than the last as they approached Ron's bedside. The heavy wooden door creaked open, revealing the stark white interior of the infirmary, illuminated only by the soft glow of candlelight.

As they entered, their eyes immediately sought out Ron's bed, where he lay in a state of distress. His normally freckled face was now pale and drawn, lines of pain etched across his features. Sweat glistened on his forehead, and he clutched the blankets tightly as if seeking solace from the agony coursing through him.

Madame Pomfrey bustled about the room, her expression a mix of stern concentration and underlying concern as she tended to Ron's needs. The crisp white sleeves of her healer's robes fluttered with each brisk movement, and her no-nonsense demeanor conveyed both authority and a deep-seated commitment to her patients' well-being.

The sharp scent of medicinal potions filled the air, permeating every corner of the infirmary with their pungent aroma. Glass bottles clinked softly as Madame Pomfrey deftly selected the necessary remedies from her extensive array of healing supplies. The faint aroma of dried herbs hung in the room, a comforting undertone that spoke of nature's remedies mingling with the alchemy of magical healing.

Ron lay on the bed, his features contorted in pain as he clutched his swollen hand to his chest. The afflicted limb had ballooned to at least twice its normal size, the skin stretched taut and mottled with an unhealthy shade of green. Veins pulsed ominously beneath the surface, highlighting the severity of the swelling and hinting at deeper underlying issues.

Hermione hovered anxiously nearby, her hands clasped tightly together as she watched Madame Pomfrey's ministrations with a mixture of apprehension and hope. Harry stood at Ron's bedside, his concern etched into every line of his face as he anxiously awaited news of his friend's condition.

"It's not just my hand," he whispered, "although that feels like it's about to fall off. Malfoy told Madam 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 Fluffy like we said, but I don't think she believes me—I shouldn't have hit him at the Quidditch match, that's why he's doing this."

“Well it’s good at least he didn’t actually reveal it…” said Harry.

“No, but the rotten git actually did take my Potions book. Guess he needed something to cover his alibi.”

Harry and Hermione tried to calm Ron down. "It'll all be over tomorrow," said Hermione, but this didn't soothe Ron at all. On the contrary, he sat bolt upright and broke into a sweat.

"Oh shoot!" 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 Norberta."

Harry and Hermione exchanged worried glances as Madam Pomfrey ushered them out of the hospital wing, her stern voice leaving no room for argument as she insisted that Ron needed rest.

"This is bad," Harry murmured to Hermione as they stepped into the corridor, the weight of the situation heavy on his shoulders. "We haven't got time to send Charlie another owl, and this could be our only chance to get rid of Norberta. We’ll have to tell Charlie when we see him. We should use the cloak to speak to him—if Malfoy sees us together it’ll be all over.”

Hermione's brow furrowed with concern as she processed Harry's words, her mind already racing ahead to formulate a plan. "Right. He doesn’t know about that much. It’ll be our only chance. We should let Hagrid know.”

The urgency of their mission hung in the air like a palpable presence, driving them forward with a sense of determination as they hurried through the dimly lit corridors of Hogwarts.

As Harry and Hermione approached Hagrid's hut, they spotted Fang, the loyal boarhound, sitting outside with his tail wrapped in a bandage. It was clear that even Hagrid's faithful companion hadn't been spared from the chaos surrounding Norberta.

When Hagrid saw them, he cracked open a window to speak, his usually booming voice now softened by concern. "I won't let you in," he huffed, his breath visible in the chilly air. "Norberta's at a tricky stage—nothin' I can't handle."

Despite his assurances, there was an undeniable weariness in Hagrid's eyes, a testament to the toll that caring for the young dragon was taking on him. Yet, there was also a stubborn determination, a fierce loyalty to the creature he had raised from an egg. Harry and Hermione exchanged worried glances.

"Hagrid, we have an update on the situation you really should know about," Harry said, his voice carrying a sense of urgency.

"It’s about the letter," Hermione added, her brow furrowing with concern as she watched Hagrid's reaction closely.

When they relayed the contents of Charlie's letter to him, Hagrid's eyes brimmed with tears, though it was hard to discern whether it was due to the emotional weight of their words or the recent bite on his leg inflicted by Norberta.

"Aargh! It's all right, she only got my boot—jus' playin'—she's only a baby, after all," Hagrid reassured them, his voice wavering slightly as he attempted to downplay the severity of the situation. Despite the pain, there was a hint of fondness in his tone as he spoke of Norberta, his affection for the young dragon evident even in moments of distress.

The baby banged its tail on the wall, making the windows rattle. Harry and Hermione walked back to the castle feeling that tomorrow couldn't come quickly enough.

The rest of the day Harry and Hermione had been on pins and needles. Once classes are done, they rounded back to the infirmary to tell their plan to Ron, and then they had each separated for the night.

The next morning, the corridors of Hogwarts bustled with students hurrying to their classes, their excitement palpable in the air. Harry moved with purpose, his steps echoing against the ancient stone walls as he made his way from the Gryffindor Common Room. The news of Charlie Weasley's unexpected arrival had spread rapidly.

Approaching the entrance to the Ravenclaw Common Room, Harry spotted Hermione waiting there, her eyes scanning the corridor with a mix of anticipation and concern etched on her features.

"Hermione," Harry called out, his voice carrying a note of urgency as he quickened his pace.

Hearing his voice, Hermione turned to face him, her expression shifting from worry to relief tinged with curiosity. "Harry, what's going on? Have you heard anything about Charlie?"

"Yes," Harry replied, his tone resolute as he closed the distance between them. "Charlie's here. He arrived just a few moments ago."

Hermione's eyes widened with anticipation. "That's wonderful news! Do you know where he is?"

"He's in the great hall," Harry confirmed, his sense of determination driving him forward.

"Let's go meet up with him then," Hermione suggested, her eagerness matching his own.

Harry nodded, patting the pocket underneath his robes where the invisibility cloak was hidden. "I've got it with me."

Hermione chuckled softly. "It's a miracle it fits in there."

"It folds onto itself so easily," Harry explained with a grin, "it's almost like I could fold it to fit as small as I want it."

Harry brought out the cloak and threw it over the both of them. The fabric enveloped them like a shroud, its magical properties sending a shiver down Hermione's spine as its almost chilling embrace fell over them.

Hermione gasped, the sensation of invisibility washing over her like a wave. "Are we invisible now?" she asked, her voice tinged with awe.

"Yes," Harry replied, his tone filled with quiet confidence. "We won't be seen by anyone, but we have to be careful. We're still solid, so we have to move at the same pace."

As Harry and Hermione slipped the invisibility cloak over themselves, the world around them vanished into darkness. They moved swiftly through the corridors of Hogwarts, the only sound their hushed footsteps echoing against the stone walls. Hermione's grip tightened on Harry's arm as they approached a junction, their path intersecting with a different corridor.

"Wait," Hermione whispered, her voice barely audible. "I think I hear footsteps."

Suddenly, the sound of approaching footsteps grew louder, and Fred and George Weasley rounded the corner, their presence unexpected. George appeared to be stuffing a folded scrap of paper into his back pocket as they approached. The twins held out their arms, blocking Harry and Hermione's path.

"Harry Potter and Hermione Granger, what ever are you sneaking around for?" Fred asked with a mischievous grin, his eyes gleaming with curiosity.

Harry lifted the cloak off his face and lowered his voice. “How did you two see us?”

George smiled. “Harry, Harry, Harry,” he said, placing his hand on Harry’s shoulder, his tone conspiratorial. “There are just things about this school you haven’t learned yet.”

“Things so mysterious that not many people know about,” Fred added, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

“’Cept us, of course,” George chimed in.

“But don’t worry, we’ll keep your secret,” Fred reassured them, grinning mischievously. “We just have something we want to know.”

“What could you want to know?” Hermione asked, her brow furrowing in curiosity.

“Charlie’s been talking high and mighty about being excited about helping out Kettleburn. But last I checked, he kept ignoring the student teaching request. There’s not a lot around here that we’re not able to figure out,” Fred explained, leaning in closer.

“Secret passageways, hidey holes, charms teachers don’t want you to learn,” George added with a wink.

“But we admit, we can’t quite figure out why Charlie’s decided to come spend the weekend here. We were going to ask Ron—given that Charlie tends to treat him different, but Madame Pomfrey’s limited the people that can visit him ever since Malfoy came and stole his book...which…” Fred trailed off as he produced a book from behind him, the very potions textbook Ron had mentioned. Harry flipped through it, but his heart sank when he didn't find the letter from Charlie.

Malfoy still had it.

“Give that to Ron when you can,” Fred said, handing the potions textbook to Harry. “Erdick Zabini told us about the joke Malfoy played on him—the git. But anyways, we assume you know what Ron knows.”

“And we assume Ron knows what’s going on with Charlie,” George chimed in, his expression shrewd.

Hermione nodded in agreement, her voice steady despite the tension lingering in the air. “He wrote out to Charlie the other night,” she revealed, catching both brothers off guard. “He was feeling anxious about not being sorted into Gryffindor...of course, he’d be nervous about bringing it up with you two.”

For a moment, the jovial expressions that usually adorned the faces of Fred and George faded, replaced by a more somber demeanor. But just as quickly as it had vanished, the lightheartedness returned.

“Oh, I see!” Fred exclaimed, his tone light but with a hint of sympathy. “Ronald’s feeling homesick and worried he’s not living up to the family name.”

“Don’t know why he’s worried. Heard his grades so far have been more than Mom’s been hoping for,” George added, attempting to inject a touch of levity into the conversation. “Honestly, I’m a little jealous he gets to be dormed next to the kitchens.”

“Well, he’d kill me if you two made jokes on him about it,” Harry said, echoing Hermione’s sentiments. “Especially now that he’s healing up from his bite.”

Fred made a noise of agreement, reflecting their shared frustration regarding Ron's injury. “Yeah, well, I’m sure we’ll find something else to poke fun of at. But I read your message. Thanks, Harry, and you, Hermione, for looking after our brother. We’ll be sure to think of a good joke to pull on him soon.”

“And you have to promise when you have a free moment to tell us how well that cloak works,” said George, his eyes sparkling with curiosity. “Was thinking of picking one up over summer break. Want to know if it’s effective.”

“Well, if more people can see us like you could…” Harry's heart sank at the reminder of their predicament.

“Oh, I wouldn’t worry about that. Nobody else will be able to see you under it,” Fred assured them, flashing a mischievous grin.

That was the last they said before they left, disappearing around the corner as quickly as they had appeared. Harry and Hermione exchanged a glance, a sense of urgency gnawing at them.

“What do you think they meant?” Harry asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

“I’m not sure, but they seemed to notice something off with Charlie being here,” Hermione replied, her brow furrowed in concern.

“We have to be quick, then,” Harry said, his mind racing with the implications of Fred and George's words. “If Percy gets wind of this, he’ll be asking questions until term is over.”

Harry paused, his senses on high alert as they listened intently. Sure enough, the sound of approaching footsteps grew louder, echoing ominously through the corridor. With a sinking feeling, they realized someone was coming their way.

"Draco," Harry muttered under his breath, recognizing the distinctive cadence of Malfoy's gait. "We can't let him see us."

Hastily, they pressed themselves against the shadowed alcove of a nearby statue, their hearts pounding in their chests as they waited. The footsteps drew nearer, the soft glow of torchlight flickering against the stone walls as Draco Malfoy emerged into view.

He was muttering to himself, his eyes darting around the corridor with an intensity that sent a shiver down Harry's spine. It was clear that Malfoy was actively searching for them, his determination palpable in the tense set of his shoulders.

Harry held his breath, willing Malfoy to pass by without noticing their concealed presence. But fate had other plans. Just as Malfoy drew level with their hiding spot, he paused, his sharp gaze scanning the darkness with a predatory gleam.

For a heart-stopping moment, Harry feared they had been discovered. But then, with a frustrated grunt, Malfoy continued on his way, his footsteps fading into the distance.

Exhaling a sigh of relief, Harry and Hermione emerged from their hiding place, the tension draining from their bodies. They exchanged a silent glance, a shared understanding passing between them as they resumed their journey towards the great hall.

Inside, they saw who must have been Charlie Weasley sitting down at the Gryffindor table, his presence commanding yet welcoming. He had a rugged charm about him, with fiery red hair that fell in untamed waves around his face. His freckled cheeks were flushed with the warmth of the castle's atmosphere, and his eyes sparkled with a friendly glint.

In front of Charlie sat a small feast, arranged meticulously on the Gryffindor table. The food looked sumptuous and inviting, a colorful array of dishes that seemed to cater to every appetite. There were golden roasted chickens, glistening with juices, surrounded by bowls of steaming mashed potatoes and gravy. Platters of freshly baked bread, still warm from the oven, were piled high next to bowls of crisp, garden-fresh salads. A tantalizing array of desserts adorned the table, from rich chocolate cakes to delicate fruit tarts, tempting anyone who glanced their way.

In the midst of the hall, Harry and Hermione moved with silent determination, their footsteps muffled by the invisible cloak that enveloped them. Shadows danced across the walls, cast by the flickering candlelight that illuminated the hall.

"Come on, let's go," Harry whispered, his voice barely audible above the din of conversation. Beside him, Hermione nodded in agreement, her expression one of unwavering resolve.

Approaching Charlie Weasley, Harry's voice cut through the clamor with a hushed inquiry. Charlie's face registered surprise as the sound seemed to materialize out of thin air, his eyes scanning the empty space around him.

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"We're invisible, on your left," Hermione's voice chimed in, her words a reassuring presence in the midst of uncertainty. She wasted no time in explaining their predicament, her tone tinged with urgency.

"Ron's not going to be able to make it, he got bit by the dragon, but I'm Hermione Granger," she added, her voice carrying the weight of their shared concern for their friend.

Charlie's initial surprise gave way to understanding as he processed Hermione's words, his features softening with empathy. "I...see," he replied, his composure returning as he addressed their unseen presence.

"I didn't actually expect first years to know disillusionment charms. Well done," he added, a hint of admiration coloring his tone.

Harry, eager to clarify their situation, interjected with a note of explanation. However, before he could speak, Hermione jumped in, her voice resolute and focused.

“There’s a first year Slytherin boy who has your letter, so he knows what you’re here for. His name’s Draco Malfoy.”

As Charlie Weasley absorbed their words, his expression shifted from surprise to thoughtful contemplation. His brow furrowed slightly, betraying the gravity of their situation as he processed the revelation about Draco Malfoy.

"Those Malfoys always know how to get in the way, don't they?" Charlie remarked with a hint of resignation. "Well, I've heard a bit of the talk around here from Fred and George—they had heard some of the talk from that Malfoy kid who's been talking up something, so it's unsettling he has the letter..."

His voice trailed off momentarily, a flicker of regret crossing his features. "I should have concealed more of the information inside," he admitted with a sigh, his words tinged with a note of self-reproach. However, a sense of resolve quickly replaced his momentary lapse, his gaze sharpening with determination.

"Well, what you won't do for family, right?" Charlie mused, his tone tinged with a touch of wry humor. "You said Ace was in the infirmary?"

Harry nodded in confirmation, his thoughts racing as he considered their next course of action. "After we set out for the plan, you should go up and see him," he suggested, his voice echoing with quiet determination. "He was very excited to see you."

A warm smile graced Charlie's features, his eyes twinkling with genuine affection. "And you must be the legendary Harry Potter, are you not?" he remarked, his words laced with a sense of admiration.

Harry felt a blush creeping up his cheeks, the weight of Charlie's regard both humbling and exhilarating.

"Well, Mr. Potter, Ms. Granger, I'm happy to be of help," Charlie said warmly, his gaze lingering on them with a sense of sincerity. "I know Ron's gotten it hard being the youngest brother for the longest while, and I know it's not been easy since I left. So I feel sort of responsible for helping him get along since Mom and Dad have so much to deal with."

Harry nodded in understanding, a surge of gratitude welling within him for Charlie's unwavering support. "Hagrid is going to be sad," he admitted solemnly, his voice tinged with regret, "but he knows it's the right thing to do."

"Excellent," Charlie replied with a decisive nod. "So we'll meet tonight over by Hagrid's hut. I have to actually give the lesson I agreed to today—Yales as my second—otherwise the staff will start to get suspicious. I'll make my way over, and then we can get that dragon out of here."

A smile spread across Harry's face, his eyes alight with anticipation. "Thank you, Charlie," he said sincerely, his words echoing with heartfelt appreciation.

After their conversation with Charlie, Harry and Hermione slipped out of the Great Hall, the weight of their mission lifting from their shoulders. As they reached a quiet corner of the castle, Harry removed the invisibility cloak, feeling a rush of relief wash over him. The air seemed lighter, and he couldn't help but smile as he folded the cloak and stowed it away.

"Feels good, doesn't it?" Hermione said, her voice soft with a hint of satisfaction. "One step closer to getting Norberta out of here."

"Yeah," Harry agreed, his grin widening. "It's like a weight off my chest."

“Well, I think until tonight I’m going to head to the library to get some more studying done. I have some work on Potions that I’m not fully satisfied with. You have Quidditch practice today if I’m not mistaken?”

Harry nodded. “Yes.”

As they prepared to part ways to head to their respective destinations, Harry hesitated for a moment before speaking up. "Hey, Hermione, do you mind if I walk with you to the library? Just to make sure you don't have to go alone."

Hermione looked surprised for a moment, but then a warm smile spread across her face. "That would be nice, Harry," she said gratefully. "Thank you."

As Harry and Hermione made their way through the corridors towards the library, they passed by Draco Malfoy, who was scowling deeply. His eyes flashed with frustration as he glared at them, realizing that he had failed to catch them before they could meet with Charlie.

The sun hung high in the clear blue sky as Harry soared through the air on his broomstick, the wind rushing past him as he chased the golden snitch. His heart pounded with exhilaration, and for the first time in what felt like ages, he felt free.

Around him, his teammates darted and weaved through the air, their colorful robes trailing behind them like streaks of paint against the sky. Alicia Spinnet's ponytail streamed out behind her as she executed precise maneuvers, her focus unbroken as she practiced her aerial tactics. Angelina Johnson's laughter echoed across the pitch as she and George executed complex passing plays, their teamwork seamless and effortless.

But it was a sight in the stands that truly filled Harry with joy. Out amidst the rows of spectators, he spotted Hermione, her bushy hair unmistakable even from a distance. She sat with her books spread out before her, completely engrossed in her studies yet still taking the time to watch him practice. The sight of her there, supporting him even in the midst of her own responsibilities, filled Harry with an immense sense of gratitude and happiness.

As he dove and twisted through the air, Harry felt the weight on his chest lifting with each graceful maneuver. The rush of wind in his ears drowned out the worries and fears that had plagued him, leaving only the thrill of the chase and the joy of flying.

For a fleeting moment, all was right in the world, and Harry reveled in the feeling of freedom that Quidditch practice brought him, knowing that Hermione was there, cheering him on from the sidelines.

When darkness enveloped Hogwarts, shrouding the castle in shadows, Harry and Hermione convened one last time in the infirmary. The soft glow of candlelight danced across the room, casting flickering shadows on the walls as they discussed the day's events.

Charlie's visit to Ron earlier in the evening had lifted the spirits of the Weasley brother, evident in the subtle brightness that now graced his features. Despite this, an air of unease lingered in the room, a palpable tension born from the knowledge that Ron could not actively participate in the upcoming plan.

"Don’t worry about it," Harry reassured, his voice steady and comforting. "Your brother’s on the job, and we’re going to make sure everything works as expected."

"I’m sure Charlie will rest easy knowing that you are," Hermione chimed in, her voice soft but reassuring.

Ron let out a weary sigh, his expression reflecting his frustration at being sidelined. "Yeah, just wish I could be there and help in the moment, you know?"

Harry nodded in understanding, his gaze unwavering. "Don’t worry, I’ll tell you all about it when we get back."

"Hopefully. My luck, tonight’s my last night in this bed," Ron remarked, raising his hand to inspect the still-discolored swelling. "Madame Pomfrey said there’d been venom inside that bite, she was definitely having trouble believing it was a giant dog…"

"Well, at least she recognized it and took care of it," Harry replied, offering a small smile of reassurance.

As Harry and Hermione made their way to Hagrid's hut, a sense of apprehension hung heavy in the air, overshadowing any sympathy they might have felt for Hagrid's impending farewell to Norberta. The night was enveloped in darkness, the sky obscured by thick, billowing clouds that seemed to mirror the weight on their hearts.

Their journey was further delayed by an unexpected obstacle in the form of Peeves, the mischievous poltergeist, who was engaged in a raucous game of tennis against the wall in the entrance hall. They had to wait patiently for him to finish his game and flit away before they could proceed, adding to the sense of urgency that gnawed at them.

Finally arriving at Hagrid's hut, they found the towering figure of Hagrid bustling about, his large frame silhouetted against the dim glow emanating from within the hut. Norberta, nestled in a large crate, was a looming presence in the corner

"She's got lots o' rats an' some brandy fer the journey," said Hagrid in a muffled voice. "An' I've packed her teddy bear in case she 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, Norberta!" Hagrid sobbed, as Harry and Hermione covered the crate with the invisibility cloak and stepped underneath it themselves. "Mommy will never forget you!"

As Charlie and Yales made their way down to Hagrid's hut, they were met with the eerie stillness of the night. The moon cast long shadows across the grounds of Hogwarts, adding an air of mystery to their clandestine mission.

Yales, a tall and wiry figure with dark hair and sharp features, moved with a grace that belied his size. His cloak billowed softly behind him as he walked, his footsteps barely making a sound on the damp earth. Despite the darkness, his eyes gleamed with determination, reflecting the resolve that burned within him.

As they approached Hagrid's hut, the glow of the lantern within flickered softly through the windows, casting a warm golden light onto the path before them. The silhouette of Hagrid could be seen moving about inside, his large form silhouetted against the light.

Norberta's presence loomed large in the corner of the hut, the crate containing her form a stark reminder of the task at hand. The sounds of her restless movements echoed softly through the night, mingling with the hushed whispers of the wind.

“Hello Hagrid,” Charlie offered as Hagrid opened the door. As he and his partner stepped inside, Harry got a closer look at Yales and noticed he was a very tall figure.

As both men entered the room, Harry’s eyes fell upon the figure standing beside Charlie. Yales was unlike anyone Harry had ever seen before. Tall and slender, he exuded an aura of quiet confidence. His sleek black hair was neatly styled, framing a face that bore sharp, angular features. His almond-shaped eyes, a deep shade of brown, held a keen intelligence, and his skin had a warm, golden undertone.

Yales stood with an air of poise and grace, his presence commanding attention as he entered the room. His robes, a rich azure hue, were embroidered with elaborate designs that danced in the flickering candlelight, creating an illusion of movement. Each stitch seemed to tell a story, weaving together a tapestry of tradition and heritage.

Around his neck hung a pendant of polished jade, its verdant depths capturing the essence of nature itself. The stone glowed softly, casting a gentle aura around him, while intricate carvings adorned its surface, depicting ancient symbols of wisdom and strength.

"Everyone, this is Yales," Charlie announced, drawing their gazes towards the newcomer. "He's my stalwart associate back in Romania.”

Hermione, ever the curious one, couldn't resist the opportunity to learn more. "What house were you in?" she inquired, her eyes alight with interest.

Charlie shook his head with a smile. "Oh, he didn’t attend Hogwarts," he clarified. "We met in Romania. Yales hails from the prestigious wizarding school Kupiara in the Far East."

Yales inclined his head in greeting, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. His eyes, dark and enigmatic, held a depth of wisdom that seemed beyond his years. "It's a pleasure to meet you all," he said, his voice smooth and melodious, with a slight accent that added an exotic charm to his words.

Turning his gaze towards Hagrid, Yales addressed the towering figure with a respectful nod. "I've heard a lot about you, Hagrid. I assume this is the dragon in question?" His tone was polite yet filled with genuine curiosity as he gestured towards the crate.

Hagrid sniffled, wiping a tear from his eye. "Oh, yes, there’s Norberta," he replied, his voice thick with emotion. "I can’t thank yeh enough for helping out. I got caught up and didn’t know what to do."

Charlie stepped forward, his demeanor practical and focused. "We’re going to cast a disillusionment charm on the crate itself so we can levitate it out without much trouble," he explained. "Though, I’m a bit surprised that hasn’t been accomplished yet with the skill set the two of you have on hand," he added, glancing at Harry and Hermione.

Harry and Hermione exchanged sheepish glances, their cheeks tinged with embarrassment. It was a reminder of their oversight, but Charlie's tone softened the rebuke, and they understood it was meant more as a gentle jest. Both wizards stood and drew out their wands.

They made intricate motions with their wands, their movements fluid and precise. Harry watched in fascination as the crate began to shimmer and then gradually disappeared from view. It was a spellbinding sight, made all the more impressive by the fact that neither wizard had uttered a single incantation.

As the crate vanished, Harry noticed a subtle difference compared to the invisibility offered by his cloak. Unlike the complete invisibility of the cloak, the crate now seemed to blend seamlessly with its surroundings, almost like a chameleon. Though not fully invisible, it was camouflaged in a way that made it difficult to distinguish from the background.

The levitation charm, performed wordlessly, lifted the disguised crate into the air, and Harry marveled at the cleverness of the spellwork. It was a testament to the skill and ingenuity of both wizards, leaving Harry with a newfound appreciation for the intricacies of magic.

As the disguised crate lifted into the air, Harry and Hermione watched in awe as Charlie and Yales expertly maneuvered it out of Hagrid's hut. The chameleon-like illusion made it almost imperceptible against the backdrop of the night sky, blending seamlessly with the darkness.

Hagrid wiped away a tear as Norberta disappeared from view, his voice choked with emotion. "Take care, Norberta," he murmured, his large hands clenching and unclenching nervously.

Charlie and Yales exchanged a glance before nodding in understanding. With practiced precision, they guided the levitating crate through the air, their wands moving in synchronized motions. Despite the weight of their task, there was an air of confidence and determination about them.

As they reached the edge of the Forbidden Forest, Charlie cast a quick glance around to ensure they were alone. With a subtle nod to Yales, they both turned into themselves and almost immediately vanished. Harry was left in awe.

Left behind, Harry and Hermione shared a silent moment of relief and satisfaction. The plan had been successful, and Norberta was now on her way to safety. As they turned to leave, their hearts lighter than they had been in weeks, they knew that their journey was far from over. But for now, they allowed themselves a moment of respite, knowing that they had done what needed to be done.

As Harry expressed his gratitude to Hagrid, the half-giant's emotions overwhelmed him, and tears flowed freely down his weathered cheeks. Hermione offered a gentle pat on his side, attempting to provide some semblance of comfort amidst the sorrow.

"At least she'll be happy and growin' up with other dragons," Hagrid managed to say between sobs, his voice thick with emotion. "Oh, I hope she learns to share."

The moonlight cast a soft glow around them, illuminating the scene with a serene, ethereal light. The night seemed to embrace them, offering solace in the midst of their bittersweet farewell.

“Let me escort yeh back to the castle,” Hagrid said, hiccuping and wiping his eyes. “Yeh’ve done so much for me and riskin’ yerselves out here. Let me make sure yeh get back inside okay.”

Hagrid led the two students up through the path until they reached the interior of the castle. There was a sudden movement ahead of them

As they crept through the dimly lit corridors, Draco Malfoy's figure emerged from the shadows. Harry lurched back, but as the lantern behind him revealed—he wasn’t alone. Professor McGonagall had Malfoy by the ear, and the look on her face seemed striking.

“Oh, hello Professor,” Hagrid said. “What’s going on here?”

“I’ve just caught Malfoy sneaking out of bed after dark...seems not alone,” Professor McGonagall said, her tone sharp as she spied Harry and Hermione. “When all of a sudden, I received this from Mr. Malfoy.” She pulled out Charlie’s letter. “This seems to imply that Mr. Weasley was here to pick up something to be transported away from the castle that had been brought here improperly.”

Hagrid’s gaze shifted and then turned to the side.

“And Mr. Malfoy mentioned something about Mr. Potter here having a...dragon,” Professor McGonagall said as her eyes studied all in the hall. “Are you familiar with any of the sort, Rubeus?”

Hagrid hesitated for a moment, his brow furrowed in uncertainty, before he finally spoke up, his voice heavy with regret. "I...erm…" he began, but then he lowered his head, a deep sigh escaping him. "I apologize," he admitted, his words hanging heavily in the air.

Harry's eyes widened in surprise, mirroring the shocked expressions of the others gathered around.

"I shouldn’t have anyone else be takin’ the fall," Hagrid continued, his tone remorseful. "I’m the one that sent that letter, Professor McGonagall."

A scoff echoed through the room, slicing through the tension like a knife. "He’s lying! It was that Ron Weasley who did!" Malfoy interjected, his voice dripping with disdain.

Professor McGonagall's stern gaze immediately silenced Malfoy, her eyes narrowing with suspicion as she held the letter in her hand, reading it over again. Despite her efforts to maintain composure, confusion flickered across her features like a passing shadow. "And that would make you, Ace?" she questioned, her tone sharp and probing as she directed her attention to Hagrid.

Hagrid nodded solemnly, his rugged features etched with a mixture of regret and resolve. "Called him that once in class because he aced his N.E.W.T. for Care of Magical Creatures. Inside joke it became. No, These two here heard rumor of the dragon and were curious, and so they came down looking to ask questions," he explained, motioning towards Harry and Hermione. "When I had to explain to them that what I had been looking to send back with Charlie Weasley were some Fire Crabs—extras from Kettleburn’s last outing."

Professor McGonagall's expression softened slightly, her features reflecting a mix of shock and concern. "Well...I must say I am quite shocked, Rubeus. What made you think of enacting such a plan like this?" she inquired, her tone filled with genuine curiosity and a hint of worry.

“I noticed the increase in shipments to the castle,” Hagrid explained, his voice tinged with regret. “I realized they were coming in, but since I’m not exactly on the teaching staff, I knew I didn’t have much say. I knew that having too many fire crabs in close proximity could start a blaze that might injure some of Kettleburn’s students—especially Norberta, being the queen of the bunch there. Others would be fine if they didn’t have a queen to follow, you see, but get too many wanting to cause a ruckus and…” Hagrid made a sweeping motion with his hands to mimic an explosion.

“Professor, the oaf is lying!” Malfoy interjected. “I saw the dragon there in that hut! It was a live dragon!”

Professor McGonagall fixed Malfoy with a stern gaze. “Now, Mr. Malfoy, I’ve heard the spatterings you’ve been spreading across these halls, and not once have you mentioned a dragon. Yes, I know you were spreading rumors. I would assume if you had actually seen a dragon, you would have come immediately to a staff member to report your sighting. But since you seem so convinced on being out of class and wandering by yourself, it’s going to be twenty points from Slytherin, and I’ll be deferring additional consequences to Professor Snape. Now, go on to your dorm room. Snape will follow up with you.”

She nearly tossed Malfoy away with a dismissive gesture, shooing him off with a flick of her hand, and then redirected her attention to the three in front of her. “Well, Rubeus. I cannot allow rules to be broken in such a flagrant manner, even with good intentions. In a situation such as this, you should have informed a higher staff member, or even Professor Dumbledore himself, rather than involving a third party in your schemes. I will be discussing this behavior with the headmaster before the end of the night.”

Her gaze then shifted to Harry and Hermione, her expression stern. “And you two... students out of bed, following rumors of a dragon—no doubt spread by Mr. Malfoy. What possessed you to think that was a safe or acceptable course of action? If a dragon had truly been present in Hagrid’s hut, what made you believe that it was a situation you could handle?”

Professor McGonagall appeared near speechless with exasperation. “You may go, Rubeus. I will deal with them from here.”

“Professor McGonagall,” Hagrid began to interject, but she cut him off abruptly. Before Harry knew it, he and Hermione were alone with the Gryffindor Head.

Things couldn't have been worse. McGonagall led them down to her study on the first floor, her heels clicking against the stone floor with each step. The weight of impending punishment hung heavy in the air as they sat in silence, the tension palpable. Hermione's hands trembled in her lap, her expression a mixture of anxiety and fear. Harry felt the weight of guilt pressing down on him, his mind racing with futile attempts to concoct excuses and alibis.

Excuses, alibis, and wild cover-up stories swirled in Harry's mind, each one more feeble than the last. He knew there was no plausible explanation that Professor McGonagall would accept for their reckless behavior. They were cornered, caught red-handed in the dead of night.

As they waited in the study, Neville Longbottom sat off to the side in a chair, his expression a mixture of concern and confusion. Harry exchanged a glance with Hermione, realizing that they weren't the only ones in trouble. The realization only added to the sinking feeling in his stomach.

"Harry!" Neville burst out, the moment he saw the other two, his voice tinged with urgency. "I was trying to find you to warn you. I heard Malfoy saying he was going to catch you. He said—"

Harry's frantic gestures silenced Neville, but it was too late. Professor McGonagall's sharp gaze zeroed in on the trio, her stern expression leaving no room for doubt.

"I would never have believed it of any of you. I think I've got a good idea of what's been going on," said Professor McGonagall, her voice laced with disappointment. "It doesn't take a genius to work it out. You fed Draco Malfoy some cock-and-bull story about a dragon, trying to get him out of bed and into trouble. I've already caught him. I suppose you think it's funny that Longbottom here heard the story and believed it, too?"

Harry locked eyes with Neville, silently communicating that the accusation wasn't true. He could see the hurt and confusion in Neville's expression, realizing the cost of his earnest attempt to warn them. Harry felt a pang of guilt for inadvertently involving his friend in their predicament.

"I'm disgusted," said Professor McGonagall, her tone heavy with disappointment. "Four students out of bed in one night! I've never been so disappointed in each of you. You, Miss Granger, I thought you had more sense. I’ll be dismissing you to Professor Flitwick, but I’m sure he’ll agree with twenty points from Ravenclaw for the gall."

Hermione's shoulders slumped in defeat as the weight of the punishment settled on her. She cast a regretful glance at Harry, knowing the consequences they were facing.

"As for you, Mr. Potter, I thought Gryffindor meant more to you than this," continued McGonagall, her gaze piercing through Harry. "All three of you will receive detentions—yes, you too, Mr. Longbottom, nothing gives you the right to walk around the school at night, especially these days. It's very dangerous—and fifty points will be taken from Gryffindor."

"Fifty?" Harry gasped, the realization hitting him hard. They would lose the lead, the lead he'd worked so hard to secure in the last Quidditch match.

"Twenty-Five from Mr. Potter, and Twenty-Five from Mr. Longbottom," McGonagall declared firmly, her expression unwavering. "I expect more from you representing Gryffindor House. Your actions have consequences."

"Professor—please—"

"You can't—"

"Don't tell me what I can and can't do, Potter," McGonagall interrupted sternly. "Now get back to bed, all of you. I've never been more ashamed of Hogwarts students."

Fifty points lost. In one night, they'd shattered Gryffindor's hopes for the house cup. The weight of their actions pressed heavily on Harry's chest, suffocating him with guilt and remorse. How could they ever make up for this monumental loss?

Throughout the night, Harry lay awake, staring at the dark ceiling above him. Sleep eluded him as he listened to the sound of Neville's muffled sobs from the neighboring bed. Each tear felt like a hammer blow to Harry's conscience, amplifying his own feelings of despair. He longed to offer words of comfort to his friend, but his own turmoil left him speechless.

As Harry lay awake in the darkness of the dormitory, a sense of dread settled over him like a heavy cloak. The looming specter of dawn brought with it the crushing weight of anticipation. How would he face his Gryffindor housemates, knowing that their trust had been shattered by his actions?

With each passing moment, Harry's mind conjured images of the scene that would unfold the next day. As Gryffindors passed the towering hourglasses that displayed their house points, confusion would ripple through the corridors. How could they have lost fifty points overnight? The whispers would grow louder, fueled by speculation and rumors.

The news would spread like wildfire: Harry Potter, the celebrated hero of Gryffindor, had single-handedly caused their downfall, along with a few misguided accomplices. From revered champion to despised outcast, Harry's reputation would plummet in the eyes of his peers.

No longer would he be met with admiration and respect. Instead, he would face scorn and ridicule at every turn. Even students from other houses would turn their backs on him, knowing that Hermione's loyalty had been swayed by his misguided decisions.

Everywhere he went, Harry would be met with pointed fingers and harsh words. The once-beloved hero would become a pariah, condemned by his own actions to endure the scorn of those he had once called friends.