As the days crept by, a pall of somber uncertainty settled over Harry, Ron, and Hermione, casting a shadow over their once buoyant spirits as they navigated through their classes at Hogwarts. The weight of their secret burdened Harry's conscience heavily, manifesting as a nervous tension that didn't go unnoticed by his friends.

Asher, with their keen perception, had approached Harry, concern etched into their features as they probed gently about Harry's sudden change in demeanor. Harry wrestled with guilt as he skirted around the truth, knowing that divulging the details of Hagrid's predicament would only escalate the danger, regardless of how much he trusted his fellow Gryffindors.

The Gryffindor common room, usually abuzz with chatter and laughter, now seemed cloaked in a hushed solemnity as Harry grappled with the burden of secrecy. Each passing day seemed to deepen the sense of foreboding that loomed over them like a dark cloud, leaving them to anxiously anticipate the next ominous turn of events.

Then, amidst the subdued atmosphere of breakfast one morning, Hedwig swooped down with another missive clutched in her talons, delivering it to Harry with a solemnity that mirrored the gravity of its contents. With trembling hands, Harry unfurled the parchment, his heart sinking as he absorbed the bleak words penned by Hagrid. The note offered no solace, no reassurance, only serving to deepen the sense of apprehension that gripped Harry's heart like a vice.

And he had done it in only three words:

It is hatching.

Upon showing the note to Ron and Hermione, the both of them offered nervous looks, their brows furrowed in concern as they absorbed the gravity of Hagrid's message.

“We should go, right? Try to convince him to put it somewhere not here,” Hermione suggested, her voice tinged with urgency.

“Put it where?” Ron countered, his tone reflective of the conflict within him. “I do want to see it hatch...but think it’s going to be dangerous either way, but we should skip Charms to at least see it if it’s already there.”

“That sounds like a terrible idea,” Hermione interjected, her eyes wide with apprehension.

“Hermione, how many times in our lives are we going to see a dragon hatching?" Ron argued, a hint of excitement creeping into his voice despite the gravity of the situation.

"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—" Hermione's voice rose with a note of exasperation, her concern for their friend outweighing any sense of adventure.

"Shut up!" Harry whispered urgently, his voice barely audible as he caught sight of the grim figure entering their line of view.

Malfoy was only a few feet away, and he had stopped dead in his tracks to listen, his icy gaze fixed intently on the trio. How much had he heard? Harry couldn't shake the unease that settled in the pit of his stomach at the sight of Malfoy's calculating expression.

Ron and Hermione continued their heated debate all the way to Charms, the tension between them palpable as they grappled with the decision weighing heavily on their minds. Despite Hermione's initial resistance, the urgency of the situation eventually prompted her to agree to accompany the others to Hagrid's during morning break.

As the bell echoed across the castle grounds, signaling the end of their lesson, the three friends hastily dropped their trowels and made a beeline through the manicured lawns, their footsteps quickening with each stride as they raced towards the edge of the Forbidden Forest. There, at the appointed meeting spot, Hagrid awaited them, his usually jovial demeanor tinged with a flush of excitement and anticipation.

"It's nearly out." Hagrid's voice carried a mix of excitement and nervousness as he ushered them inside, his large frame filling the doorway.

The interior of Hagrid's hut felt warm and cozy, but there was an undeniable tension in the air as they entered. The egg, positioned prominently on the table, drew their attention immediately. Deep cracks marred its surface, hinting at the imminent arrival of the creature within. A strange clicking noise emanated from the egg, adding to the anticipation that hung thick in the air.

They gathered around the table, their chairs scraping softly against the wooden floor as they leaned in, their eyes fixed on the egg with bated breath. With a sudden scrape, the egg split open, revealing the newborn dragon within. It flopped ungracefully onto the table, its appearance far from what one might consider conventionally cute. Harry couldn't help but liken it to a crumpled, black umbrella, with its oversized wings, skinny body, and peculiar features.

As the dragon sneezed, sending sparks dancing from its snout, Hagrid's face lit up with adoration. "Isn't he beautiful?" he murmured, his large hand extending cautiously to stroke the dragon's head. But as his fingers brushed against the creature's scales, his eyes widened in surprise.

"Oh...he...isn't a he," Hagrid whispered, his voice filled with wonder as he leaned closer to examine the dragon. "Norberta...is a she!" His rugged features broke into an exuberant smile, a testament to the joyous revelation.

Bending as softly as his immense frame allowed, Hagrid turned to the trio with a gleam of excitement in his eyes. "So, Norberta?" Harry suggested tentatively, his own excitement bubbling beneath the surface.

"Norberta!" Hagrid repeated with delight, his booming laughter reverberating through the cozy confines of his hut. "Why, I didn't even think of it! But she's got the indicating markings Norwegian Ridgebacks possess when they're female! Oh, this is astounding."

But the creature, in its first moments of life, showed its feisty nature, snapping at Hagrid's fingers with pointed fangs, a reminder of the wildness that lay within even the most seemingly innocent creatures.

"Bless her, look, she knows her mommy!" said Hagrid, his booming voice filled with affection as he observed Norberta nuzzling against his chest.

"Hagrid," said Hermione, her tone laced with concern, "how fast do Norwegian Ridgebacks grow, exactly?" Her brow furrowed with worry, her mind already racing ahead to the potential complications of caring for a rapidly growing dragon.

Hagrid scratched his head thoughtfully, the wild tangles of his hair shifting as he mulled over Hermione's question. A concerned frown etched deeper lines into his rugged features, accentuating the gravity of the situation. "Well, Hermione, Norwegian Ridgebacks grow right quick, they do," he began, his voice tinged with a mix of apprehension and reassurance. "Bout twice as fast as your average dragon, I reckon. I’d say by two weeks’ time she’ll be twice as big as she is here." He cast a glance toward Norberta, a glimmer of affection softening his weathered expression. "But don'cha worry, we'll take good care o' Norberta here. She's got a big heart, she has."

“Hagrid, that’s the issue,” Ron interjected, his voice laden with concern.

“It...probably isn’t safe to raise Norberta here,” Harry continued, his own worry evident in his tone.

“Hagrid,” Hermione joined in, her words trailing off as Hagrid's abrupt movement caught them all off guard.

As Hermione spoke, Hagrid's eyes widened, and the color drained from his face. With alarming speed, he sprang to his feet, causing his chair to scrape loudly against the floorboards. Rushing to the window, his movements were frantic with urgency, betraying a sense of dread that sent a shiver down Harry's spine.

"What's the matter?" Harry demanded, the fear creeping into his voice as he rose to join Hagrid at the window, his heart pounding in his chest.

"Someone was lookin' through the gap in the curtains—it's a kid—he's runnin' back up ter the school," Hagrid exclaimed, his voice trembling with apprehension, the lines of worry deepening on his weathered face. His large hands gripped the windowsill tightly, knuckles turning white with tension as he scanned the grounds below.

Harry's heart leaped into his throat as he bolted to the door, his footsteps echoing in the small hut as he rushed to join Hagrid at the window. He pressed his face against the glass, squinting through the dim light to catch a glimpse of the figure retreating into the distance. Even from this distance, he could make out the unmistakable figure of Malfoy, his platinum blond hair shining like a beacon in the morning light.

The realization hit Harry like a physical blow, sending a chill down his spine. Malfoy had seen the dragon, and the implications of his discovery filled Harry with a sense of dread. The fragile balance of secrecy they had tried so hard to maintain was now threatened, and Harry couldn't shake the feeling of impending danger that hung heavy in the air.

In the days that followed, an unsettling atmosphere settled like a heavy fog over Hogwarts. The sinister smile that had played upon Malfoy's lips lingered in Harry's mind like a haunting specter, a constant reminder of the threat that loomed over them. His heart raced with each passing moment, the weight of their secret pressing down upon him like a suffocating blanket.

Ron and Hermione, their nerves frayed with worry, stood steadfast by Harry's side, their unwavering support a beacon of comfort in the midst of uncertainty. Their voices rose in urgent pleas as they tried to reason with their dear friend, the desperation in their tones echoing off the walls of Hagrid's dimly lit hut. Harry, Ron, and Hermione leaned forward, their eyes pleading with Hagrid, knowing that the danger looming on the horizon demanded swift action.

Hagrid, his rugged features etched with concern, listened intently to their words, his massive frame hunched over in thought as he grappled with the gravity of their predicament. His brow furrowed deeply as he weighed their words, the weight of responsibility heavy upon his broad shoulders.

But despite their impassioned arguments and heartfelt appeals, Hagrid remained steadfast in his resolve, his reluctance evident in the set of his jaw and the furrowed lines of his brow. Try as they might, Harry, Ron, and Hermione couldn't sway him, their frustration mounting with each passing moment.

"Just let her go," Harry urged, his voice tinged with desperation. "Set her free."

"I can't," said Hagrid, his tone heavy with reluctance. "She's too little. She'd die. I couldn’t bear to watch her not be able to fend for herself out there."

They looked at the dragon, the sight before them defying Hagrid's earlier predictions. Contrary to expectations, the creature had undergone a remarkable growth spurt, its once small and almost haggard form now stretching three times in length in just a week's time. Smoke continued to billow from its nostrils.

Hagrid's usually meticulous hut bore the signs of neglect, a testament to the all-consuming task of caring for Norberta. Empty brandy bottles littered the floor, interspersed with a flurry of chicken feathers, evidence of the chaotic feeding routine that had taken over Hagrid's life.

Ron had selflessly offered to sacrifice his time away from classes, dedicating himself to assisting Hagrid in the Herculean task of feeding Norberta. Together, they toiled tirelessly, their efforts focused on steadying the chickens and gathering enough sustenance to satiate the voracious appetite of the rapidly growing dragon.

Harry, on the other hand, felt the weight of his own limitations press down upon him like a suffocating blanket. Despite his desire to help, he knew deep down that he lacked the necessary skills and courage to assist in such a nerve-wracking endeavor. The mere thought of facing Norberta's fiery gaze filled him with a paralyzing fear, leaving him rooted to the spot with uncertainty.

Ron recounted the harrowing experience over lunch one day, his voice lowered to a conspiratorial whisper as he leaned in closer to his friends. He described the adrenaline-fueled moment when he realized he had forgotten his gloves, a crucial detail that could have ended disastrously had Norberta reacted differently.

“Nearly forgot they were dragon-hide!” he confessed, a sheepish grin playing on his lips. "Helps keep him still without tearing your hands up against its scales."

Hermione's brow furrowed with concern as she processed Ron's words. "Have you been trying to convince him to get rid of her?" she inquired, her gaze searching Ron's face for any sign of progress.

"Tried," Ron admitted with a heavy sigh. "Each time I get closer, he looks into Norberta’s eyes and changes his mind. Then he starts crying."

Harry, his mind still preoccupied with the looming threat of Malfoy's betrayal, interjected with a sense of urgency. "Have you heard anything from Malfoy?" he asked, the tension in his voice palpable.

Ron shook his head in frustration. "I haven’t. I don’t know why he hasn’t gone to anyone yet."

"Maybe he's looking to set up a trap like last time," Hermione speculated, her voice laced with apprehension as she considered the possibility of another dangerous encounter with Malfoy and his cohorts.

“Maybe,” agreed Harry, thinking of the Midnight Duel that never was. The thought of Malfoy plotting behind the scenes sent a chill down his spine, fueling his determination to stay one step ahead of their cunning adversary.

Their conversation was interrupted by the arrival of Neville, his expression fraught with concern as he approached their table. "Have you heard the news?" he asked, his voice trembling slightly.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione exchanged anxious glances, bracing themselves for whatever revelation Neville was about to share.

"It's Malfoy," Neville continued, his voice barely above a whisper, his eyes darting nervously around the crowded room. "He's been spreading rumors about knowing something illegal is in the castle. Everyone's talking about it."

A heavy silence descended over the table as the gravity of Neville's words sunk in. The once lively atmosphere of the Great Hall seemed to dim, replaced by a tense undercurrent of anxiety that rippled through the assembled students.

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The danger they had feared was now looming ever closer, threatening to expose their secret and unleash chaos upon Hogwarts. Harry, Ron, and Hermione exchanged worried glances, their minds racing with the implications of Malfoy's insidious rumors.

"What do you think it is he's talking about?" Neville's voice trembled slightly as he voiced the question that weighed heavily on all their minds.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione each shared a look that necessitated further conversation, but before they could formulate a response, Harry turned to Neville and nodded, a silent acknowledgment of the gravity of the situation.

With a shared sense of determination, they knew that they couldn't afford to ignore Malfoy's threats any longer. The time for action was now, and they would stop at nothing to protect their friend and the fragile peace of Hogwarts.

"Yeah, I think I heard something like that too. Sure it's worth trusting?" Neville's hesitant voice broke the silence, his eyes searching theirs for reassurance.

Neville looked back at him, confusion knitting his brows into a puzzled expression. “What'cha mean, Harry?”

“I mean,” Harry began, his gaze flickering over to Hermione, who offered a subtle nod of agreement, her expression supportive. “It's Malfoy. Getting other people into trouble is his middle name. I think he's just blowing smoke to try to get people in trouble—like he did with us before.”

Understanding dawned in Neville's eyes, the lines of worry easing from his face as Harry's explanation sank in. "Oh, I see. Okay, that makes sense." He nodded slowly, a sense of relief washing over him. "Oh, I almost forgot all about that." He cast his gaze downward, memories of their previous run-ins with Malfoy stirring unease within him. "I still feel the nerves from how fast we ran that night."

Harry offered Neville a reassuring smile, his hand coming to rest on his friend's shoulder in a gesture of camaraderie. “No problem, Neville,” he said, his voice laced with warmth. “We've got each other's backs. Always.”

“Want to do some studying for McGonagall’s exam later tonight?” Neville's voice broke through the quiet of the Gryffindor common room, his tone eager as he turned to Harry.

Harry's gaze flickered nervously over to Ron and Hermione, seeking their silent reassurance as he weighed his response. This time, however, there were no reassuring looks to be found, leaving Harry to fend for himself in the face of Neville's inquiry.

“Uh, I don’t think I’ll be able tonight,” Harry replied, his words hesitant as he searched for a plausible excuse.

“Why’s that?” Neville's curiosity was palpable, his eyes wide with genuine interest.

Harry bit his tongue, a surge of guilt flooding through him as he considered the truth. He stopped himself from asking why Neville should want to know, recognizing that his friend's inquiry was simply a gesture of politeness. “I promised Ron I’d help him find Scabbers, ran out of his room last night,” he explained, his tone tinged with a hint of regret.

“Oh!” Neville's eyes lit up with recognition as he processed the situation. “Well, that’s perfect! I’ve gone and lost Trevor again, so maybe we could search together?” His words were hopeful, a suggestion that brought a glimmer of relief to Harry's troubled mind.

“I think he might have gone down near the dungeons,” Ron added, jumping to Harry’s side, his voice carrying a hint of urgency. “Down in the dark places toads don’t like to go.”

“Oh,” Neville said, nodding slowly as he processed Ron's suggestion. The dim light of the common room cast shadows across his thoughtful expression. “Well, that makes sense, I guess. I can go ask Asher anyway; they’ve been real good at locating Trevor.”

“Okay,” Harry said, his tone filled with gratitude as he returned Neville's nod. “Give Asher my best.”

“Will do, thank you Harry!” Neville replied with a grateful smile, his eyes flickering with determination. He nodded to Harry and then turned to Ron and Hermione, offering them the same gesture of appreciation. As Neville made his way out of earshot, a sense of relief washed over all three of them, the tension that had gripped the air dissipating like fog in the morning sun.

"We need to do something," Harry declared, his voice filled with determination as he turned to face Ron and Hermione. The urgency in his words was unmistakable. "We can't let Malfoy ruin everything. Especially if he is playing this as coy as he is."

“Agreed,” Hermione said, her brow furrowed with worry. “We should go plead with Hagrid again, once classes are over.”

Ron had argued they should go immediately, the impatience evident in the furrow of his brow and the set of his jaw. But Hermione had shot down the idea of skipping out on class, her dedication to their studies unwavering even in the face of imminent danger.

When their last classes for the day were finally done—which thankfully had been History of Magic, a subject droll enough that Ron and Harry had shared a few stifled laughs—they met up with Hermione, who had just finished Astronomy. The three of them gathered at the entrance to Hagrid’s hut, their footsteps echoing softly in the cool evening air as they prepared to confront their dear friend once more.

As they knocked on his door and Hagrid let them in, they were greeted by a scene of chaos and disarray. The interior of his hut appeared even more cluttered and unkempt than usual, with piles of books and various magical creatures' belongings scattered haphazardly across the room. Feathers from Norberta's recent meals littered the floor, and the scent of dragon dung hung heavily in the air.

Hagrid himself looked weary and disheveled, his usually jovial demeanor overshadowed by a deep furrow of concern etched into his brow. He welcomed them inside with a weary smile, though it was clear that something weighed heavily on his mind.

"Come in, come in," Hagrid greeted them, his voice tinged with exhaustion. "Sorry for the mess, been a bit busy lately, y'know."

Harry, Ron, and Hermione exchanged concerned glances as they stepped further into the cluttered room, the gravity of their situation pressing down upon them like a weight.

"He really knows me now, watch. Norberta! Norberta! Where's Mommy?"

"He's lost his marbles," Ron muttered in Harry's ear.

"Hagrid," said Harry loudly, his voice filled with urgency, "give it two weeks and Norberta's going to be as long as your house. Malfoy could go to Dumbledore at any moment. We cannot keep things going the way they are."

Hagrid bit his lip, his expression torn between love for Norberta and concern for the consequences of keeping her. "I—I know I can't keep her forever, but I can't jus' dump her, I can't."

Realizing he was about to hit the same brick wall they had encountered before, Harry turned away, his frustration evident in the tense set of his shoulders. He closed his eyes, willing himself to focus, to unearth the solution that lingered somewhere within the recesses of his mind. He could feel a flicker of memory stirring, a distant echo of knowledge waiting to be brought to light.

The weight of their predicament hung heavy in the air, a tangible reminder of the urgency of their situation. Harry knew they couldn't afford to fail, couldn't afford to let Norberta's fate hang in the balance any longer.

Suddenly, as if a bolt of lightning had struck, Harry's eyes snapped open, a spark of realization igniting within him. With a surge of newfound determination, he turned to Ron, his voice brimming with urgency. “Charlie,” he said, the name a beacon of hope amidst the turmoil.

"You're losing it, too," Ron teased lightly. "I'm Ron, remember?"

Harry's excitement was palpable as he shook his head, his eyes alight with newfound hope. "No—Charlie—your brother, Charlie. In Romania. Studying dragons," he explained eagerly, his words tumbling out in a rush. "We could send Norberta to him. Charlie can take care of her and then put her back in the wild!"

The idea hung in the air, a glimmer of hope amidst the uncertainty that had clouded their minds. Hagrid's brow furrowed in deep thought, his gaze shifting between Harry, Ron, and Hermione. The weight of their plan settled heavily upon his shoulders, and for a moment, he hesitated.

"Brilliant!" Ron exclaimed, his eyes shining with excitement. "How about it, Hagrid?"

Hagrid's expression softened, a conflicted look crossing his features. He sighed heavily. "Well...I suppose it's worth a try," Hagrid finally conceded, his voice tinged with uncertainty. "But we gotta be careful, y'know. Can't risk anythin' goin' wrong."

Despite his reservations, Hagrid's agreement was proof of his trust in Harry, Ron, and Hermione. With a nod of determination, he looked to them for reassurance, hoping that they could indeed find a way to keep Norberta safe. In the end, Hagrid agreed that they could send an owl to Charlie to ask him.

The following week seemed to stretch on endlessly, each day dragging by with agonizing slowness. Since their exams were coming closer and closer, they weren’t learning new material by this point—but simply rounding back on lessons of the year thus far. Harry had gotten more confident on the levitation charm, but it still took Ron a few extra tries with the motion to get his wand to respond.

By Wednesday night, a heavy atmosphere of tension and uncertainty had settled over Hogwarts like a suffocating blanket. In the dimly lit Gryffindor common room, Hermione and Harry sat in somber silence, the only occupants of the room long after everyone else had retired to bed. The soft ticking of the clock on the wall echoed through the empty space, each chime marking the passing of another interminable hour.

As the clock struck midnight, shattering the stillness of the night with its solemn melody, the portrait hole suddenly burst open with a resounding thud. Startled, Hermione and Harry jumped to their feet, their hearts pounding with apprehension. Through the swirling entrance, Ron emerged, his figure silhouetted against the dim glow of the common room. In his hand, he held Harry's invisibility cloak, its folds shimmering faintly in the dim light.

Breathless and disheveled, Ron's face was flushed with exertion as he rushed toward his friends, his expression a mix of excitement and exhaustion. He had been down at Hagrid's hut, a place shrouded in shadows and secrets, where danger lurked in the darkness. He had just come back from his last attempt at helping Hagrid feed Norberta, but Harry and Hermione both could tell something was wrong. Ron had been holding his right hand amidst a dripping crimson liquid.

"It bit me!" Ron exclaimed, his voice tinged with both indignation and disbelief as he showed Hermione and Harry his injured hand. Gingerly unwrapping the blood-soaked handkerchief, he revealed the deep gash that marred his skin, the crimson liquid seeping through the fabric in a macabre display. The handkerchief itself had been soaked to saturation, droplets of blood splattering onto the floor with each trembling movement.

His hand trembled slightly as he held it out for their inspection, the pain evident in his furrowed brow and clenched jaw. "I'm not going to be able to hold a quill for a week," he lamented, his frustration palpable. "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."

Ron's tone was laced with incredulity as he recounted the absurdity of his encounter with Norberta, the young dragon whose ferocity belied her innocent appearance. He shook his head in disbelief, unable to comprehend Hagrid's unwavering affection for the creature that had inflicted such pain upon him.

"When it bit me, he told me off for frightening it," Ron continued, his voice tinged with exasperation. "And when I left, he was singing it a lullaby." The absurdity of the situation was not lost on him, and a mixture of disbelief and frustration colored his words as he recounted the bizarre scene that had unfolded in Hagrid's hut.

“Ron, you’re going to need to go to Madame Pomfrey’s for that, I’m not going to be able to fix that up right,” Hermione said, her tone laced with concern as she examined Ron's injured hand. The severity of the wound was evident, and she knew it required professional attention.

“But what if she asks questions?” Ron asked, his voice tinged with apprehension. The thought of facing Madame Pomfrey's inquiries filled him with a sense of unease.

“Say you went in the wrong door by mistake and got bit by the giant dog they’ve got resting there for anybody to come victim to,” Harry suggested, his quick thinking offering a plausible explanation for Ron's injury.

“But she’ll know I went out of bounds!” Ron argued, his brow furrowing with worry. The prospect of facing punishment for breaking school rules weighed heavily on his mind.

“Better a detention than the alternative,” Harry interjected, his voice firm and decisive.

Ron sighed, the frustration evident in his expression as he winced, turning his injured hand gingerly. “All right, all right. I’ll go. I just need to stop by my dorm to—”

Before Ron could finish his sentence, there was a sudden tap on the dark window, a sharp sound that pierced the quiet of the room, interrupting their conversation like an unexpected visitor demanding attention. "It's Hedwig!" exclaimed Harry, his voice infused with a flicker of excitement that brought a spark to his features as he hurried to the window to let her in.

"She'll have Charlie's answer!" Ron chimed in, his anticipation mirroring Harry's as he joined him at the window, his eyes fixed on the majestic snowy owl perched outside.

With bated breath, the three of them gathered around the parchment that Hedwig carried, their heads huddled close together like conspirators about to uncover a long-awaited secret. The dim light cast a soft glow upon their eager faces as they eagerly unfurled the note, their hearts pounding in anticipation of what it might reveal.

Dear Ace,

I hope this letter finds you well. Thank you for reaching out to me regarding the N. R. Problem. I must say, the prospect of is both thrilling and daunting, but rest assured, I am more than willing to take on the challenge.

However, transporting Norberta to Romania will not be a simple task. Given the legal restrictions and the inherent risks involved, we must exercise caution and discretion in our approach. After careful consideration, I believe the most prudent course of action would be for me to come personally with one of my associates under the guise of a student teaching program. I’ve been receiving requests from Professor Dumbledore for some time now to add some extra flavor to the Care of Magical Creatures class that third years and up take. I think it would work if I finally accept that proposal.

I’ve asked my associate and he is just as excited at the prospect of seeing an infant Norwegian Ridgeback as he is at meeting you—that must be a sign I’ve talked you up enough over here! Of course, this means if he is willing to help, it cannot be made public that he is involved with something like this. I’m sure if something turns end-side up I can smooth it over for myself, but he is taking a risk that I hope you can appreciate.

If this plan works for you, I will meet up with you on March the 30th as that is when I expect to land on the Hogwarts property. There, we can make sure we’re at the same point and can act swiftly to ensure Norberta's safe passage to Romania.

Looking forward to seeing you.

Warm regards,

Charlie Weasley

They exchanged glances, each absorbing the contents of the letter they had just read.

“Who’s Ace?” Harry inquired, curiosity lighting up his features.

Ron's cheeks flushed slightly as he hesitated, clutching the letter a bit tighter to his chest. He glanced off to the side before mumbling something that sounded suspiciously like “nickname for me.”

“Well, it’s good he’s willing to help, but he sounds almost a little too excited to be participating in the illegal transport of a dragon,” Hermione remarked, her brow furrowed with concern.

“Well, all the better. I don’t know what we’d do if he wasn’t able to help,” Ron replied, his tone a mixture of relief and gratitude.

“It’ll be very exciting to meet him, though,” Harry added, a hint of anticipation in his voice. “You’ve made him sound like a really amazing brother.”

Ron's eyes sparkled with pride at Harry's compliment, his chest puffing out ever so slightly.

“I didn’t know there was a Care of Magical Creatures class—I’m a little surprised Hagrid hadn’t put in for that position. Given his obvious love for them,” Harry mused, his brow furrowing with curiosity.

“Dunno, but I hear the poor bloke’s just gotten back from St. Mungo’s from an injury involving a fire crab,” Ron explained, then glanced at Harry and Hermione. “Oh, right. St. Mungo’s is a wizard hospital in London. For what Madame Pomfrey can’t help here—honestly though Hagrid might be better off for it, Professor Kettleburn is pretty notorious for not thinking the creatures he brings in are anything other than objects to be marveled at.”

A shadow of concern passed over Harry and Hermione's faces as they exchanged a meaningful glance, silently acknowledging the potential risks involved.

"Well, we do have the invisibility cloak," said Harry, his voice tinged with cautious optimism. "So if we need to meet in private, we have options."

"I dunno if we’ll necessarily need to sneak around to meet with Charlie and his friend, but it might help to keep that dragon hidden," Ron chimed in, his tone reflecting a mix of hope and apprehension.

"Maybe if we can ensure it doesn’t burn the cloak," Hermione suggested, her brows furrowed in deep concentration. "I don’t know how much longer until Norberta starts breathing flames."

A heavy silence settled over them, punctuated only by the soft crackling of the fireplace. It was a mark of how bad the last week had been that the other two agreed with Hermione's concern. Anything to get rid of Norberta—and Malfoy—was worth considering.