Norbert, the Norwegian Ridgeback

To the quartet of friends' surprise, however, Quirrell appeared braver than any of them could have thought; despite his subsequent weight loss and pale pallor over the weeks that followed, they were relieved to know he hadn't cracked yet. They could still hear Fluffy's growls whenever they pressed their ears to the door leading onto the forbidden third-floor corridor and Snape continued to sweep about the school in his usual foul mood, a sure sign the Stone remained out of his reach. Harry was even sure to give Quirrell an encouraging sort of smile whenever they passed in the corridors and Ron now jumped to the man's defense whenever someone made fun of his stutter. 

Hermione and Cheyenne, on the other hand, had more important things on their minds than their surly Potions' professor and the Stone he had his eye on. With their end of year exams quickly approaching, the two girls had returned their attention to their education; while Cheyenne took a more laid-back approach with a focus on organizing and putting her notes together, Hermione was a little more heavy-handed and had started creating study schedules for the pair of them. Neither Harry nor Ron could quite understand the issue and often left them to it, until Hermione began badgering them to do the same. 

"Our exams are ages away." Harry reminded her one night in the common room while he watched Cheyenne leaf through her Transfiguration notes. 

"Ten weeks," Hermione retorted shortly, "To Nicolas Flamel that can't be more than a second." 

"None of us are six hundred years old," Ron pointed out, his brow furrowed, "What are the two of you so worried about, anyway? We all know you're both going to get As'." 

"What are we worried about?" Cheyenne, who up until this point had seemed the calmest of the two, looked up with wide eyes, "You do realize that we can't get into second year if we don't pass these exams, right? They're important!" 

"She's right," Hermione added briskly, shaking her head, "Honestly, we should have started doing all this a month ago!" 

Unfortunately for the boys, their teachers appeared to be thinking along the same lines as Hermione and Cheyenne, and they were soon buried in a mountain of homework so big it left their Easter holidays rather lackluster in comparison to their Christmas ones. Hermione's insistence on reciting the twelve uses of dragon's blood or practicing wand movements with the other three constantly made it difficult to relax and most of the group's free time was spent in the library trying to get through their extra work. 

"I'll never remember any of this," Ron groaned one afternoon as he threw his quill down on the table and peered forlornly out the library window. The sun sat at the apex of a clear, eggshell blue sky, beckoning them to step outside onto the lush green of the school grounds; it was the first nice day they'd had in months as the cold rains of spring gave way to the rapidly approaching warmth and sunshine of summer. 

Something moving out of the corner of her eye caught Cheyenne's attention as she read over her Herbology homework, and she looked up in time to spot a familiar nest of long, curly brown hair. 

"Hagrid?" She set her own quill aside as the giant stiffened, "This is a surprise. What're you doing in the library?" 

Shifting something in his hands, Hagrid slowly turned to face them, being careful not to let any of them see what he was holding. He looked out of place among the tall bookshelves, dressed as he was in his moleskin overcoat. 

"I'm jus' browsin'," He said slowly, trying, and failing, to sound confident, which sparked their interest immediately, "An' what're you lot up ter?" he narrowed his eyes, "Not still lookin' fer Nicolas Flamel, are yeh?" 

"Oh no, we figured out who he is ages ago," Ron shrugged, "And we know what that dog's guarding, too, it's a Sorcerer's -" 

"Shhh!" Hagrid interrupted, glancing around the library to be sure no one was within earshot before he returned his attention to Ron, his brows pulling together over the bridge of his nose, "Don' jus' go shoutin' about that, what's the matter with yeh?" 

"You know, there are a few things we wanted to ask you," Harry interjected, setting his own work aside, "about what else is guarding the Stone, aside from Fluffy -" 

"SHHH!" Hagrid urgently pressed a finger to his lips, "Listen - why don't the four'a yeh come an' see me later. I'm not promisin' I'll yell yeh anythin', mind," he gave them a stern look, "But we can't jus' go rabbitin' about it here, none'a the students are s'pposed ter know. I can't have them thinkin' I've told yeh -" 

"Okay..." Cheyenne nodded, glancing at Harry, "I guess we'll see you later, then." 

Hagrid nodded firmly and shuffled out of sight once more. 

"What do you suppose he was hiding behind his back?" Hermione said thoughtfully, turning to the other three. 

"You think it had something to do with the Stone?" Harry wondered. Ron shoved away from the table, eager for a break. 

"I'm going to see what section he was in." And, with that, he strode off in the direction Hagrid had come from, returning about a minute later with a stack full of books. 

"Dragons!" he whispered, slamming the books onto the table, "Hagrid was studying up on dragons! Just look at these," he picked up each book to show them, "Dragon Species of Great Britian and Ireland; From Egg to Inferno, A Dragon Keeper's Guide." 

"Hagrid's always wanted a dragon," Harry piped up, "He told me as much when we first met." 

"Did he?" Cheyenne blinked, surprised; she couldn't remember that conversation the day Hagrid had taken her and Harry to Diagon Alley, so she could imagine they'd probably had it before she met up with them in London. Harry nodded. 

"It's against our laws, though," Ron pointed out, "Everyone knows dragon breeding was outlawed by the Warlocks' Convention of 1709. And, even if we could keep them in our back gardens without the Muggles noticing, they can't be tamed and they're dangerous. The lot of you should see the burns Charlie's got from the wild ones in Romania." 

"Do we have any wild dragons in Britian?" Cheyenne frowned. Ron nodded, "Of course, we have the Common Welsh Green and the Hebridean Blacks; the Ministry of Magic has quite the job hushing them up. Any time a Muggle's spotted a dragon, our kind has had to put spells on them to make them forget." 

"If that's true, then what on earth is Hagrid up to?" Hermione pondered aloud. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* 

It came as quite a shock for the four preteens when, upon arriving at the gamekeeper's hut an hour later, they found all the curtains drawn. When they knocked on the door, Hagrid asked who it was before he let them inside and quickly shut the door behind them. 

Despite the warm, sunny day outside, the hut was stifling; a roaring fire burned in the grate, causing a film of swear to appear on all exposed skin, even as they settled around the table while Hagrid made tea and stoat sandwiches. 

"So," Hagrid said as he poured their tea, "Yeh wanted to ask me somethin'?" 

"Yes," Harry nodded, knowing there was no point in beating around the bush, "We were wondering if you could tell us about what else could be guarding the Sorcerer's Stone aside from Fluffy." 

Hagrid frowned and sighed, "Yeh know I can't. Number one," He held up one finger, "I don' know meself. And number two, the four o' yeh know too much already, so I wouldn't tell yeh even if I could. That Stone's here for a reason. You all saw the papers, it was nearly stolen outta Gringotts," He stroked a hand over his beard, "Jus' beats me how any'a yeh know abou' Fluffy..." 

Hermione glanced at Cheyenne, who quirked a brow and then inclined her head encouragingly; well, if they couldn't get the information out of Hagrid like this, a bit of flattery couldn't hurt, could it? Hermione turned back to Hagrid. 

"Come on, Hagrid, you might not want to admit it, but you do know," She prodded carefully, her voice warm, compelling, "After all, you know everything that's gone on 'round here." Hagrid peered at Hermione for a moment and his beard gave a small twitch, telling them he was trying not to smile, "All we want to know is who's doing the guarding." Hermione continued, "We wondered who it was Dumbledore could have trusted enough to help him." 

"Aside from you, of course," Cheyenne added; Hagrid's chest swelled while Harry and Ron beamed at the girls. 

"Well, I s'ppose it couldn't hurt ter tell yeh that," Hagrid agreed, pausing for a moment to think, "Let's see now...he borrowed Fluffy from me...and some o' the teachers did enchantments, too..." He held up a hand, ticking them off on his fingers, "Professor Sprout – Professor Flitwick – Professor McGonagall – Professor Quirrell – an', o' course, Dumbledore did somethin' himself. Oh, hang on, I've forgotten someone." He furrowed his brow, "Oh yeah, Professor Snape." 

This pulled the friends up short, "Snape?" 

"Yeah," Hagrid agreed, taking a sip of tea before he caught the looks on their faces, "What? Yer not still on abou' 'im, are yeh?" he set his cup down and frowned at them, "Look, Snape's helpin' protect the Stone, he ain't about ter steal it." 

Cheyenne exchanged a look with Harry, Ron, and Hermione, knowing they were all thinking along the same vein; if Snape was one of the teachers helping protect the Stone, it had to have been easy for him to figure out the enchantments his colleagues had used to guard it. He likely knew everything aside from Quirrell's spell and how to get past Fluffy. 

"You're the only one who knows how to get past Fluffy, right, Hagrid?" Harry turned back to the gamekeeper, his tone urgent, "And you wouldn't tell anyone something like that, would you? Not even one of the teachers?" 

Hagrid shook his head, "Not a soul knows except me an' Dumbledore." He told them, easing the tension from their shoulders. 

"That's something, at least." Harry murmured to the others under his breath, exhaling slowly as he picked at the collar of his shirt, "Hey Hagrid, d'ya think we can open a window in here? I'm boiling." 

"Can't, Harry, sorry." Hagrid shook his head once more, his eyes darting quickly to the fire. Noticing his gaze, Harry and Cheyenne looked in that direction, too. 

"Hagrid," Cheyenne's eyebrows drew together as she leaned in for a closer look, "Is that...what I think it is?" Even without his answer, though, Cheyenne knew; nestled in the very heart of the fire, just underneath the kettle, was a huge, midnight black egg. 

"Ah," Hagrid fiddled with his beard nervously, avoiding their eyes, "That's - er -" 

"Where did you get that, Hagrid?" Ron breathed as he got up from the table to crouch by the fireplace, "It must've cost you a fortune!" 

"Won it," Hagrid announced proudly, "Las' night down at the Three Broomsticks. I was havin' a few drinks an' got into a game o' cards with a stranger," he stroked his beard once more, "Though, to be honest, I think he was quite glad ter be rid'a it." 

"And what are you going to do once it hatches?" Hermione asked with a frown. 

"Well, I have bin doin' some readin'," Hagrid told them earnestly, leaning over to pull a large book out from under his pillow. He turned it around to show them, "I got this one outta the library today – Dragon Breeding for Pleasure and Profit – Bit outta date, mind, but it's got all the information I need -" He set the book on the table and flipped it open, "Says ta keep the egg in the fire, 'cause their mothers breath on 'em in the wild, an' when the hatchlin's born, I gotta feed it a bucket's worth'a brandy and chicken blood mix every half hour. An' look here -" He turned to another page, which displayed an illustrated chart of different dragon eggs, "This is how ter recognize diff'rent eggs – this lil' guy here," He indicated his egg, "Is a Norwegian Ridgeback. They're rare, they are." He turned to beam at the unborn dragon, looking quite pleased with himself. Hermione, however, did not share his enthusiasm. 

"Hagrid," She said slowly, wanting to convey her message without sounding too harsh, "You live in a wooden house..." 

Hagrid, however, wasn't listening. With a merry tune on his lips, he had taken a firepoker and was lovingly stoking the flames. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* 

With the news of the impending birth, the quartet had one more thing to add to their growing list of concerns: what could happen to Hagrid if someone was to find out he was hiding an illegal dragon. 

"Makes you wonder what it's like to have a peaceful life, doesn't it?" Ron wondered aloud as they continued to struggle through all their extra homework. At this point, Hermione had taken it upon herself to draw up study schedules for Harry and Ron, too. It was driving them up a tree. 

Then, one morning during breakfast, while Cheyenne tried to convince Hermione to dial it back a bit, Hedwig surprised Harry with his second note from Hagrid. It consisted of only two words, reading simply: It's hatching. 

Upon receiving the news, Ron was determined to skip Herbology in favor of them heading straight down to Hagrid's hut. Hermione, however, was having none of it. 

"Hermione, just how often do you think we're going to get this chance?" Ron argued, "Getting to see a dragon hatch is a once in a lifetime thing!" 

Hermione shook her head vehemently, "We have lessons, Ronald, we'll get in trouble." 

"Hm, while I agree with Hermione since it's so close to the end of the year, I can see Ron's point, too...any punishment we get from skipping class is sure to be mild in comparison to what could happen to Hagrid -" Cheyenne began, trying to mediate the fight when Harry suddenly grabbed her hand, catching her attention. Before she could turn to look at him, though, she caught sight of what, or rather, who, he was trying to warn her about. 

Malfoy stood mere feet from them, his cold gray eyes gleaming as he listened. Cheyenne's heart sank into the pit of her stomach, and she wondered how much he had heard. Even if he didn't know about Hagrid's dragon yet, there was no doubt in her mind he knew something was up, something he could use to get them in trouble. 

Harry and Cheyenne felt like they were on pins and needles the entire way to Herbology and they knew they would have to do something soon, before Malfoy found out anything more. With some work, they convinced Hermione to agree to visit Hagrid during their morning break, and the group made a beeline for the edge of the forest as soon as the bell sounded at the end of their lesson. Hagrid greeted them at the door, his beard wet with sweat and eyes wide with excitement. 

"It's nearly out," he breathed, ushering them inside. 

The egg had been moved from the fire to the middle of the table; it shook every time the hatchling inside moved, deepening the cracks that split the once smooth shell while it called for its mother with a series of strange clicks and chirps. 

Drawing their chairs up close, the five watched with bated breath. 

With a loud scraping noise, the egg split in two, spilling what looked like a tiny, crumbled black umbrella out onto the table. Spiny wings unfurled from its back, looking far too big for its skinny little body as they stretched out over the wooden surface; at the end of its long snout, a pair of wide nostrils flared with each breath while it peered up at them with bulging orange eyes. As it lifted its head, it sneezed, releasing a couple of sparks. 

"Isn't he beautiful?" Hagrid murmured, his black eyes wet with tears as he reached out to stroke the dragon's head. It snapped at his fingers with pointed fangs. 

"Bless him," Hagrid laughed, "Look, he knows his mommy." 

"Hagrid," Hermione slowly turned from the baby to the giant, "how fast do Norwegian Ridgebacks grow, exactly?" 

Wiping his eyes, Hagrid opened his mouth to answer when he went white as a sheet and leapt from the table. 

"What is it?" Cheyenne was on her feet, too, as Hagrid went to the window, peering outside. 

"Someone was lookin' through a gap in the curtains -" He paused, narrowing his eyes, "It's a kid – he's runnin' back ter the school." 

Harry followed Cheyenne to the door; even from a distance, there was no mistaking that bright blond hair. 

Malfoy had seen the dragon. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* 

There was something about the smile that lingered on Malfoy's face over the following week that made the quartet anxious. They were now spending most of their free time down at Hagrid's hut, trying to reason with him. 

"You have to let him go," Harry urged, "Set him free." 

"I can't." Hagrid shook his head, "He's still too little. He'd die on his own." 

They looked at the dragon, which had already grown three times in length in only seven days' time. Smoke was continually furling from its nostrils, and it was keeping Hagrid so busy he'd been neglecting his gamekeeping duties. The empty brandy bottles and chicken feathers that littered the floor could attest to that. 

"I've decided to name him Norbert," Hagrid told them proudly, looking at the dragon with misty eyes. "Watch, he really knows me now. Norbert!" he called, holding his hand out to it once more, "Norbert! Where's Mommy?" 

"He's lost his marbles." Ron murmured to Harry, who sighed in agreement. 

"Hagrid." he spoke loudly in the hopes of regaining his attention, "You keep Norbert any longer and we're all going to be in trouble. Malfoy knows he's here and he could go to Dumbledore at any time." 

"He's right, Hagrid." Cheyenne's voice was softer as she put a hand on Hagrid's arm, imploring him to listen this time, "Just give it another two weeks and Norbert is going to be as big as your house...you can't keep him here..." 

Hagrid peered down into Cheyenne's empathic hazel eyes and bit his lip. 

"I-I know I can't..." His voice trailed off as his throat seized, "But I can't jus' dump him, I can't." He peered at Norbert sadly. An idea struck Harry then and he turned to Ron. 

"Charlie." 

Ron gave Harry a reproachful look, "Now you're losing it. I'm Ron, remember?" 

"No," Harry shook his head, "Charlie - your brother Charlie, in Romania. He's there studying dragons!" 

Cheyenne turned to the two and smiled, "Brilliant, Harry! We could send Norbert to Charlie. He could take care of him until he's old enough to survive in the wild!" 

Ron, catching on, was smiling now, too, "Nice one, Harry. How's about it, Hagrid?" 

After a bit of convincing, Hagrid agreed they could send an owl to Charlie, at the very least. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* 

The week that followed dragged on; that Wednesday, Harry, Cheyenne, and Hermione sat up in the common room, long after the rest of Gryffindor house had gone off to bed. The clock up on the wall was just chiming midnight when the portrait behind them burst open and Ron appeared out of thin air as he pulled Harry's invisibility cloak off. He was just getting back from Hagrid's hut after helping him feed Norbert, who now had a taste for dead rats. By the crateful. 

"It bit me!" he announced, holding up his hand, which had been wrapped up in an old handkerchief. In the time it's taken Ron to return, the cloth had been half soaked with his blood, "I won't be able to hold a quill right for a week! The way Hagrid goes on about that dragon, you'd think it was a fluffy little bunny rabbit, but I tell you, it has to be the most horrible animal I've ever met. He told me off for frightening it after it bit me, and I swear I heard him singing it a lullaby when I left." 

There was a tap at the window as Cheyenne ushered Ron over so she could look at his hand. 

"It's Hermes!" Harry said as he hurried to the window to let him in, "He'll have Charlie's answer." He returned to the sofa with the letter in hand and Hermes perched on his shoulder. In hushed tones, Harry read the letter aloud to the other three. 

Dear Ron, 

How are you? Thank you for your letter – I'd be more than happy to take the Norwegian Ridgeback off your hands, but it's going to be difficult getting him here. It'd be best to send him over with a couple of friends of mine who're coming to visit me next week. The only problem will be keeping them from being seen with an illegal dragon. 

Would you be able to get the Ridgeback up the tallest tower at midnight on Saturday? They can meet you there and take him while it's still dark. 

Send me an answer as soon as you can. 

Love, Charlie. 

Harry looked up from the letter thoughtfully, "We do have the invisibility cloak, so it shouldn't be too difficult." 

"We would have to be careful, though." Cheyenne chimed in as she finished cleaning Ron's wound and tied her handkerchief around his hand, "The cloak's only big enough to cover three of us and Norbert." 

It was really a mark of just how bad the last week had been when Hermione and Ron so readily agreed with them. They'd do anything if it meant getting rid of Norbert – and getting Malfoy off their backs. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* 

There was a hitch in their plan; by the following morning, Ron's hand had swollen to twice its usual size. None of them were quite sure if it would be safe to go to Madam Pomfrey, unsure if she'd be able to recognize a dragon bite. Though Cheyenne did her best to clean and bandage it, she wasn't skilled enough to maintain looking after the wound and Ron was left with no other choice; by that afternoon, the cut had turned a nasty shade of green. No doubt that meant Norbert's fangs were poisonous. 

At the end of the day, Harry, Cheyenne, and Hermione hurried to the hospital wing, where they found Ron in a horrible state in bed. 

"It isn't just my hand," He half moaned, half whispered, "Though that feels like it's about to fall off...Malfoy came in to have a good laugh at me, told Madam Pomfrey he wanted to borrow one of my books. He kept threatening to tell her what really bite me -" He glanced toward the head nurse's office, at the back of the wing, "I told her it was a dog, but I don't think she believes me -" He sighed, "I shouldn't have hit him at the Quidditch match, that's why he's doing this." 

"Calm down, Ron," Cheyenne soothed, encouraging Ron to take a couple of deep breathes, "You get too worked up and you're only going to feel worse..." 

"She's right, Ron," Hermione sat on the edge of Ron's bed, rubbing his back, "Besides, this'll all be over at midnight this Saturday." 

Instead of making Ron feel better, however, Hermione's words made him sit bolt upright, his eyes wide while a sheen of sweat broke out over his forehead. 

"Midnight on Saturday!" he choked out, "Oh no, nonono – I've just remembered!" He looked from Hermione to Harry and Cheyenne, who sat together on his other side, "Charlie's letter, it was in the book Malfoy took! He's going to know we're getting rid of Norbert!" 

Either drawn by their voices or the look of agitation on Ron's face, Madam Pomfrey chose that moment to come bustling over to shoo Harry, Cheyenne, and Hermione out, telling them, quite sternly, that Ron needed his rest. 

"It's too late to change our plans now." Harry said once they were out of earshot, "We haven't got enough time to send Charlie another owl nor come up with anything else." 

"Meaning this could be our only chance to get rid of Norbert." Cheyenne sighed her agreement, "We'll need to take the risk...but at least we have the invisibility cloak." 

"Right," Harry agreed, "Malfoy hasn't a clue about that." 

When the trio went down to tell Hagrid, they found his boarhound, Fang, sitting outside in the garden with a bandaged tail. 

"I can't let you in," Hagrid puffed through one of the windows, "Norbert's at a bit of'a tricky stage – nothin' I can't handle." 

When he was told about Charlie's letter, Hagrid's eyes filled with tears, though none of them were quite sure if it was because he was emotional or if it was because Norbert had just bitten him. 

"Aargh! No, no, I'm all right," He tried to smile reassuringly, stopping Cheyenne from trying to approach the door, "He's just got my boot – only playin' he is – he is jus'a baby." 

The windows rattled with the force of the baby's tail banging against the inner walls. Exchanging a look as they turned back toward the castle, neither Harry, Cheyenne, nor Hermione thought Saturday could come quickly enough. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* 

The trio would have felt some semblance of pity for Hagrid when the time came for them to collect Norbert if they weren't so worried about what needed to be done. Thankfully for them, Saturday turned out to be a rather dark, cloudy night, though they ended up arriving a bit late at Hagrid's after having to wait for Peeves, who had decided to play tennis against one of the walls of the entrance hall. 

"I packed him lots o' rats an' some brandy fer the journey," Hagrid sniffed as Harry closed the door behind them, patting the large crate he'd packed Norbert into for the trip, "An' I made sure to pack his teddy bear, too, so he doesn't get lonely." 

A series of ripping noises sounded from within the crate and Cheyenne had the distinct impression teddy wasn't going to survive this trip. 

"Bye-bye, Norbert!" A sob lodged in Hagrid's throat as the crate disappeared under the invisibility cloak, followed by Harry, Cheyenne, and Hermione, "Mommy will never forget you!" 

It was a long journey for the trio as they lugged the crate up to the castle; somewhere nearby, they could hear the rhythmic tick of a clock over the sound of their labored breathing as they heaved Norbert up the marble staircase in the entrance hall and into the shadows of the darkened corridors. Up a third staircase, then another – not even one of Harry's shortcuts made the work easier. 

"Almost there!" Harry panted once they'd reached the corridor leading to the tallest tower. 

Sudden movement ahead startled them, however, nearly making them drop the crate. As though forgetting they were already invisible, they shrank back into the shadows to watch as a couple of dark outlines grappled a mere ten feet away. Then, a lamp flared to life. 

Professor McGonagall, dressed in a tartan bathrobe and hair net, held Malfoy firmly by the ear. She looked positively livid. 

"Detention!" she shouted, shaking the boy for emphasis, "And twenty points from Slytherin house! How dare you think you can just wander around the school in the middle of the night, young man -" 

"But Professor, you don't understand!" Malfoy protested, trying, and failing, to wriggle away, "Harry Potter and Cheyenne Power are coming this way – they've got a dragon!" 

"What utter rubbish!" Professor McGonagall huffed, "To tell such lies – Professor Snape shall hear of this, Malfoy!" And with that, she whisked Malfoy away down the corridor, continuing to chastise him the entire way. 

The steep spiral staircase leading up to the top of the tower seemed like a breeze after that, though they were careful to wait until they'd stepped out into the cold night air before they threw off the cloak. Hermione spun in place as soon as they'd set the crate down, her arms thrown out wide and a smile on her lips. 

"Malfoy's got detention!" She squealed with delight, her breath hanging in a cloud before her, "I could just sing!" 

"Mm, probably best to wait until we're back in the common room for that." Cheyenne giggled as she leaned against the side of the tower, though she could understand Hermione's enthusiasm. If it wouldn't get them in trouble, she'd probably be crowing about Malfoy's detention, too. 

Feeling on top of the world, the trio settled back to wait while Norbert thrashed about in his crate. It was only about ten minutes before four broomsticks appeared out of the darkness and landed in front of them. 

Charlie's friends were a cheerful bunch; they showed Harry, Cheyenne, and Hermione the harness they'd made to transport Norbert and even let them help buckle the crate into it. Then, once everything was safely secured, they all shook hands and the preteens stepped back, watching with gratitude as the men took to the skies once more, this time with the crate suspended between them. 

Norbert was finally gone. 

Feeling as though a weight had been lifted from their shoulders, Harry, Cheyenne, and Hermione slipped back down the spiral staircase, each abuzz with excitement. No more dragon – Malfoy was in detention – what could possibly spoil such a great night? 

Unfortunately for them, the answer to that question was waiting at the bottom of the tower. As they reached the foot of the stairs, Filch stepped soundlessly from the darkness, sneering menacingly. 

"Well, well, well," he whispered as they froze, hearts sinking into their stomachs at the realization of their own carelessness. They'd forgotten the invisibility cloak! "We are in trouble."