With just one week left before one of Hogwarts' few major events—Quidditch—excitement was mounting. Whenever Harry walked down the halls, st
With just one week left before one of Hogwarts' few major events—Quidditch—excitement was mounting.
Whenever Harry walked down the halls, students he didn't even know would cheer him on, hoping he'd lead Gryffindor to victory.
And it wasn't just Harry—the same happened to every member of the team. It made them both excited and nervous.
The Gryffindor Quidditch team now carried high expectations. Merlin knew how many years it had been since they last beat Slytherin.
A win would also bring them closer to the House Cup.
…
Noon.
Library.
Hagrid walked in and headed straight for the section on dragons.
He looked visibly thrilled.
He flipped through several books, starting with Identifying Dragon Species by Egg Pattern. Inside were photos of various dragon eggs. Hagrid slowly compared each picture to the one etched in his memory.
Suddenly, his eyes lit up—he'd found it.
A photo of a large, jet-black dragon egg.
Hagrid inhaled sharply, delighted. "A Norwegian Ridgeback! My goodness—these are so rare!"
He continued flipping through From Hatching to Nirvana and A Dragon Keeper's Guide, carefully searching for what he needed.
"So, baby dragons feed on brandy and chicken blood… that's not too hard to get," he muttered to himself.
After finding his answers, he rushed back to his hut.
…
That evening…
A visitor arrived at Hagrid's cabin.
"Hey Hagrid, what did you want to see me about? Your note was so mysterious," Harry said as he stepped inside.
But he quickly fell silent.
There, over the fire, was a large black egg roasting in the flames. Hagrid crouched next to it, grinning like an idiot, his face flushed from the heat, nearly pressing himself against the hearth. (The expression of a true dragon fanatic.)
Harry offered a friendly warning. "Hagrid, your beard's smoking."
Startled, Hagrid jumped. Sure enough, his thick beard was singed and nearly catching fire.
Embarrassed, he patted it down and beamed with pride. "Look, Harry! I just got myself a dragon egg!"
Harry's expression turned complicated. Looks like Quirrell has started making his move. I can't wait any longer.
Yes—Harry had already decided to retrieve the Philosopher's Stone.
He didn't want to wait until the end of the school year like in the original timeline.
If it could be done earlier, why delay?
He'd only waited this long because there was one unsolved problem. If he couldn't resolve it, the Stone would remain out of reach.
Even Voldemort hadn't been able to solve it—so Harry likely couldn't either.
While Harry was lost in thought, Hagrid misunderstood his silence.
Worried, he said, "You're not gonna tell me to give it up, are you? I know there's a law—the Ban on Breeding Dragons—but I've always dreamed of having one of my own."
"Of course not. With that law in place, it's almost impossible to get a hatchling. Only an idiot would give one away out of fear of being caught," Harry replied.
Hearing this, Hagrid beamed.
He told Harry the egg would hatch in a few days and that he'd send word when the time came. Harry nodded and left.
…
Three days later.
After lunch, Harry sat quietly in the library.
A note arrived via owl from Hagrid. He'd been keeping close watch over the egg—it would likely hatch tonight.
Finally. Watching a dragon hatch with his own eyes would be fascinating.
Harry glanced at Hermione. If she knew, she'd probably be interested. But ever since Harry had decided to distance himself from her, they'd barely spoken.
Even when Hermione approached him, Harry responded coldly.
After several attempts, Hermione sensed the growing distance and stopped trying.
Their relationship had grown strained.
Of course, only Harry knew the real reason.
It all started when Cho Chang suddenly became distant. Harry—having never experienced romance—was confused and hurt.
He began to think that girls were heartless, and in frustration, said harsh things to Hermione.
Whether it was out of spite or not… who could say?
That's how men can be when they've been hurt by someone.
…
That night, after classes, Harry quietly snuck out of the castle.
Hagrid, doing a terrible job at being discreet, had covered his cabin windows with thick cloth. Not a single crack showed what was happening inside.
When Harry entered, Hagrid was sitting completely still.
Compared to a few days ago, the egg was even darker.
It seemed to have absorbed enough heat. Suddenly, the fire in the hearth dimmed, and a crack appeared in the shell—a white line etched clearly across its surface.
Hagrid quickly used tongs to move the giant egg onto the table.
Then came the sound of crack after crack as more fractures appeared. The egg wobbled—the creature inside struggling to break free.
A shard of shell fell away. A small black claw poked out.
Snap!
The entire egg shattered, revealing the baby dragon.
Its wings looked like shriveled black umbrellas—much too big for its body, which was probably why even massive dragons could still fly. The dragon had bony ridges on its head and glowing orange-red eyes.
The newborn dragon shook its head, stepped out of the shell, took two shaky steps… and fell over.
Hagrid exclaimed, "A Norwegian Ridgeback! Don't be fooled by its size—give it two months, and it'll be as big as this house!"
He decided to name it Norbert.
He reached out and picked up the hatchling.
Norbert squeaked and squirmed.
Suddenly, it bit Hagrid's large finger and let out a puff of flame.
It was tiny—barely stronger than a lighter.
Startled, Hagrid let go. Norbert tumbled onto the table.
He was fine—rolled over and clambered back up.
Harry couldn't help but reach out and flick the dragon's head.
Norbert staggered backward a couple steps and fell again.
Harry chuckled. Still too weak.
The baby dragon crawled around the table, occasionally letting out tiny bursts of fire. The wooden surface soon had several scorched marks.
Hagrid didn't mind one bit—he was grinning from ear to ear.
Every time he tried to pet Norbert, he got another burst of flame in return.
Gradually, Harry frowned.
He suddenly noticed something—Norbert only breathed fire at Hagrid. He hadn't tried to bite Harry at all. In fact, he kept crawling toward him.
Harry's heart skipped a beat.
No way…
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⚡ The Rebirth of Harry Potter
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