Chapter 34
Watching the little Norwegian Ridgeback crunching away at the eggshell with sharp, eager snaps, Hagrid felt his heart melt completely. He longed to scoop her up, but he was afraid of doing something wrong, so he turned to Gray for guidance.
Gray paid Hagrid no attention; all his focus was on the dragon.
Through his magical sight, he could see exactly what he had been waiting for: a circuit pattern utterly different from the one inside the egg—even markedly changed from the sketches he had made only yesterday.
The moment the dragon drew her first breath of outside air, the magical circuits within her body had shifted in ways Gray could scarcely comprehend, settling at last into their present form.
The original crown-like structure had become her core life circuit. Layered over it now were countless fresh magical pathways that had sprouted and spread while she licked the nutrient mucus from her body and devoured pieces of shell.
They were difficult to describe in words: drifting water weeds, sinuous rivers, perhaps overlapping feathers stirred by a breeze.
They blanketed the life circuit beneath, giving the impression that the little dragon had grown a fine, dense coat of pale reddish down.
As she continued to feed, a soft green glow began to appear within the life circuit itself. Wherever it touched the down-like secondary circuits, they rippled and danced like tall grass swaying in the wind across an open plain.
At the same time, the dragon's body grew slowly but steadily under the influence of that gentle motion. Compared with the withered, frail creature that had tumbled from the egg only minutes earlier, she already looked noticeably sturdier and far more alert.
She sneezed once, a tiny puff of smoke escaping her nostrils, then lifted her head to look at Gray. She let out a bright, chirping sound—clear and crystalline. In her amber eyes Gray's reflection appeared: black hair, ink-dark pupils, imprinting themselves deeply in her mind.
*Mum!*
Gray regarded the little dragon and gave his wand a small flick.
One of the minor jinxes the older students whispered about took effect instantly—though directed solely at the dragon.
**Petrificus Totalus**—modified.
The dragon's wide-open mouth snapped shut at once. Her wings were drawn taut to either side, her hind legs pulled back, and even her forelegs were bound together.
She looked rather like a mounted specimen.
The dragon blinked her bright, glistening eyes at Gray. She did not struggle much; from the magic that held her she could sense Gray's familiar aura, and it reassured her.
The sensation was something like a mother's hand stroking her body—though it did tug rather painfully at her wings.
"Gray, what're you doing?" Hagrid asked, voice thick with worry.
If Gray hadn't understood dragons far better than he did—and if Hagrid hadn't been absolutely certain Gray would never harm the little one—he would already have snatched her up and cradled her protectively in his arms.
Just look at her: those eyes, those wings—how adorable! Hagrid's heart felt as though the dragon's own breath had washed over it and melted it into warm goo.
"Physical examination," a line of glowing motes spelled out in front of Hagrid, dispelling his impulse.
Gray's expression was serious. He moved his wand again; measuring tapes he had prepared earlier flew out and began taking precise dimensions all over the dragon's body.
At the same time, on the open notebook beside him, the quill wrote by itself: recording every measurement, comparing them against standard Norwegian Ridgeback hatchling data, and adding notes on future care.
In mid-air, more motes of light formed neat rows of text for Hagrid—and for Hermione and the others—to read.
"Length: 1 foot 2 inches (35 cm). Wingspan: 1 foot 6 inches (45.7 cm). Weight: approx. 4.2 pounds (1902 g). Compared to standard Norwegian Ridgeback hatchlings, she is underweight. Increase meat portions. Reduce Firewhisky and chicken blood mixture—she cannot tolerate large amounts of alcohol yet. Cabbage can be introduced in the first week; firestone grit only from the second week onward or she will be unable to absorb it."
Gray noted the data and feeding guidelines in his record book as well.
Naturally, all the actual care would fall to Hagrid. Gray still had classes to attend; at best he could drop by during free periods to check on her progress.
He was also carefully documenting the dragon's magical circuits. The pattern of **Incendio** felt tantalisingly close now.
With another flick of his wand Gray released the modified Full Body-Bind. The little dragon wriggled free, scrambled upright, and immediately began crawling toward Gray.
Hagrid—who had received an approving nod from Gray—could restrain himself no longer. He stepped forward, gathered the dragon gently into his massive arms, and tried to stroke her head with one enormous finger.
The dragon promptly bit down hard on the finger and began wriggling furiously, trying to escape his embrace.
"Oh, look at that—she's so lively! She's definitely going to grow into a strong, healthy girl. Gray, what d'you reckon we should call her? Norbert—how about Norbert? I think that's a grand name."
Hagrid's face shone with pure happiness. He had never felt his life so perfectly complete: a friend who shared his love of magical creatures and rock cakes, and now a dragon of his very own.
She was a bit naughty at the moment, true—but that was all right. He would raise her properly, just as he had raised Fluffy and Aragog.
Gray was leafing through his notebook, checking for any omissions or errors, when he heard Hagrid's suggestion. He paused.
A line of glowing text appeared in front of Hagrid.
"This Norwegian Ridgeback is female. If a name is required, I suggest 'Norberta'."
"Norberta, eh? That'll do nicely. I'll raise her to be a proper lady—make all the other little Ridgebacks swoon." Hagrid beamed. The dragon kept struggling to break free of his arms.
"Norberta? That's a good one," Ron said, standing on tiptoe to get another look. "Hagrid, let me have another peek—I didn't see enough just now."
Suddenly a mouth full of needle-sharp teeth appeared right in front of his face.
Ron yelped and jumped back. Norberta had lunged toward him, jaws wide, showing off rows of pointed fangs.
"Look—look at that! She tried to bite me! She nearly took my nose off!" Ron clutched his face, pale as parchment.
"You startled her," Hermione said, frowning. "Hatchlings are naturally wary. They only allow family members to get close."
By then Gray had finished checking his notes. He glanced at the shaken Ron and gave a small smile.
Rising to his feet, he extended a hand toward the dragon. Norberta immediately launched herself in his direction with evident delight. Hagrid reluctantly opened his arms to let her go.
To Hagrid the dragon had seemed small and delicate; in Gray's arms she looked surprisingly large—like a hairless black cat the size of a large kneazle. She nestled against him, draping her wide, thin wings over Gray's shoulders and chest like a living black blanket.
Gray reached up and stroked her head. Norberta rubbed against his hand, pressing close with obvious affection.
Ron watched from the side, green with envy.
He wanted to hold the dragon too. That was the sort of thing you could brag about to Fred, George, and Percy for a whole year.
***
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