Chapter 62: Dumbledore: No Raising Dragons in the Castle!  

This gesture suddenly made the otherwise fearsome baby dragon seem a little less intimidating—but Harry and the others still didn't want to touch it. 

"How fast do fire dragons grow, Hagrid?" 

Hermione couldn't shake her unease, especially since Norbert's sneeze had just sent sparks flying, singeing a corner of the table. 

And it had only been born five minutes ago! 

"With enough food, it'll grow to young adult size in just a few months!" Hagrid said cheerfully. "I'll make sure—" 

"Hagrid, the faster it grows, the easier it'll be to spot…" Harry interrupted, trying to caution him. 

Hagrid, however, didn't seem too bothered—especially since Cohen had mentioned there was a place in the castle where it could be raised. 

After leaving Hagrid's hut, the trio's curiosity about this secret room in the castle that Cohen had hinted at was piqued. 

So Cohen decided to show them—not his personal hideout, of course, but the Room of Requirement transformed into a dragon sanctuary for them to see. 

After pacing back and forth three times in the eighth-floor corridor, the Room of Requirement opened a door leading to a "vast wilderness." 

"Here it is," Cohen said, pushing the door open for the three of them. 

The boundless, open landscape beyond the door left Harry, Ron, and Hermione wide-eyed. 

Once everyone stepped inside, Cohen shut the door to avoid any random students wandering down this dead-end corridor catching a glimpse. 

The sky inside even had a sun, with cotton-candy clouds drifting across a brilliant blue expanse. Without Cohen's heads-up, they might've thought this led to the actual outdoors. 

"This has to be some seriously advanced magic—I've never even read about it in books!" Hermione said, gazing around in awe. "Does it have limits?" 

"Probably," Cohen replied. 

He casually flicked a spell toward the horizon. The red curse flew a good distance before hitting something like an invisible wall, sparking briefly and then vanishing. 

"But it's definitely big enough for a dragon. Hagrid can come here often to check on it—bring it food and stuff," Cohen added. 

"This must've been an old school breeding ground," Harry speculated. "A room this big could hold tons of animals—how'd you find it, Cohen?" 

"There's a bunch of secret rooms and passages in the castle. When you stumble across something weird, you've got to poke around a bit, satisfy your curiosity, right?" Cohen explained. "Like that fifth-floor staircase—none of us knew at first that yelling 'idiot' at it would take you straight to the seventh floor." 

"I still didn't know that—" Ron said warily. "No wonder you got to the top of the Astronomy Tower before us last time, even though you were behind…" 

"…" 

Once they confirmed the room could house a fire dragon, Harry and the others finally relaxed. 

Thanks to the Invisibility Cloak, all they had to do was discreetly move Norbert here before Hagrid let it grow bigger than a person. 

If everything went off without a hitch, the plan would kick off smoothly in two weeks. 

But alas, a certain white-bearded old man threw a wrench in it. 

Somehow—whether it was a ghost or a painting overhearing the "Gryffindor Troublemaker Squad" mention "Hogwarts" and "raising a dragon"—on the third day after the dragon hatched, a book with a phoenix feather appeared on Cohen's nightstand. 

"I'm going home!" Cohen griped in the Room of Requirement, clutching the book Dumbledore had sent. "Some creepy old guy's sending his pet to sneak into the boys' dorm at night!" 

"I'll help you expose him. Tomorrow morning, I'll march into the Great Hall and loudly accuse Dumbledore of pulling strings with students," Earl said offhandedly, guarding a white bird egg. 

"You're a real genius," Cohen said sarcastically. 

But that would only push Dumbledore to take drastic measures to protect his reputation. Who knew what might happen if you cornered a formidable, kindly old wizard? 

Cohen probably wouldn't die, but Earl would definitely end up as a charbroiled Scottish round-faced owl. 

The book Dumbledore sent was *The Use of the Extension Charm in Architecture*. Cohen had heard of it before—Mr. Ollivander had mentioned it when Cohen showed curiosity about how the wand shop was "bigger on the inside" before buying his wand. 

Tucked inside was a letter written in Dumbledore's distinctive, elegant, slanted script: 

*[I hear you're quite fond of magical creatures too. Perhaps this book will be of use—it once helped a student of mine, Newt Scamander, create a marvelous suitcase that gave his magical creatures a safe and comfortable home.]* 

*[P.S. Please don't raise dangerous animals in Hogwarts Castle. It could harm your classmates and friends. If you run into trouble with your research, feel free to visit the Headmaster's office for help. I'm rather fond of Cockroach Clusters.]* 

Cohen summed it up: Dumbledore was saying, "No raising dragons in Hogwarts." 

And honestly, Dumbledore's concern made sense. Who knew if some student might accidentally stumble into the Room of Requirement's dragon sanctuary? Norbert could very well gulp down a lost kid in one bite. 

"I don't really want to admit I'm wrong," Cohen said stubbornly, "but this time—wait, what the heck is that under your butt, Earl?!" 

It finally hit Cohen that Earl was… maybe… probably… 

"You really *are* a catgirl!" 

"Cat your grandma's leg!" 

Earl snapped, a bit testy from guarding the egg—like any protective parent: 

"I'm a guy! I didn't lay this egg…" 

"So you and Hedwig finally sealed the deal?" Cohen asked curiously. "I thought you weren't up to it—" 

"Hedwig didn't want to have chicks in the winter," Earl explained logically. "Now that spring's almost here, I figured I'd start raising a few sons or daughters…" 

As for why Earl was incubating the egg instead of Hedwig, Earl chalked it up to "Hedwig's living conditions being too basic for it." 

But with Earl busy parenting, there was a silver lining—it finally stopped nagging nonstop. Cohen's reading environment improved considerably. 

Since raising a dragon in the Room of Requirement was off the table, Cohen had to choose: either send the dragon away or follow Dumbledore's suggestion and whip up a Newt-style suitcase. 

The latter was obviously more appealing. A mobile base was the kind of thing most kids dreamed of—Cohen included. 

He'd tried before to turn that horned beast pouch or an old trunk into a stable mini-base, but the magic always faded over time, shrinking the space bit by bit without warning. 

Plus, the inside was always a dark, gloomy void—hardly the vibe for a pleasant setup. 

It was fine for stashing a troll or unicorn short-term, but for long-term living… Cohen wanted a base that actually *felt* like a base. 

The book offered plenty of solutions from an alchemy and ancient runes perspective. Coupled with Dumbledore's "come to the Headmaster's office anytime for help" promise, crafting such a suitcase didn't seem too tough. 

"Let's get to work!" 

(End of Chapter)