The weeks that followed Norbert's hatching were a masterclass in controlled chaos. Hagrid's hut, once a place of rustic, if slightly grubby, comfort, transformed into a sweltering, smoke-filled inferno. The baby Norwegian Ridgeback grew at an alarming rate, doubling in size each week. It developed a vicious temperament and a penchant for breathing fire at the most inconvenient moments. The wooden table was permanently scorched, Hagrid's flowery curtains were reduced to ash, and the gamekeeper himself was covered in a patchwork of burns and bite marks.
I continued my visits under the guise of a concerned, helpful student. I brought Hagrid burn-soothing salves (brewed during Potions class) and offered advice on dragon handling gleaned from my extensive reading. In reality, I was a scientist observing his experiment. With each visit, my System scanned the young dragon, a constant stream of data feeding into my mind.
//Scanning Target: [Norbert, Norwegian Ridgeback (Infant)]// Current Level: 5 Magical Properties: Innate Fire Magic, Scale-Tipped Hide (High Magical Resistance), Developing Venom Glands. System Analysis: Creature possesses immense growth potential. Resurrection at this stage is possible but would yield a low-level undead. Allowing the creature to mature will significantly increase the power and rarity of the resulting undead minion.
The analysis confirmed my strategy: patience. I needed Norbert to grow bigger, stronger. The chaos was a necessary incubation period.
The inevitable catalyst for that chaos arrived in the form of Draco Malfoy. I knew from the original timeline that Malfoy's snooping would lead to the dragon's discovery. But waiting for fate was inefficient. I decided to give it a little push.
During a study session in the library, I "accidentally" let a piece of parchment slip from my book. It was a page of notes on the dietary habits of infant dragons. I made sure Pansy Parkinson, who was sitting a few tables away and who I knew reported every scrap of gossip to Malfoy, saw it. As I "hastily" snatched it back, I saw the flicker of greedy curiosity in her eyes. The bait was set.
Two days later, the trap sprang. Malfoy, having wheedled the information out of Pansy, peered through Hagrid's window and saw the dragon. His face was a perfect picture of shock, fear, and malicious glee. He ran off, presumably to report Hagrid to Professor McGonagall.
That evening, I found Hagrid in a state of utter panic, his great body trembling with grief. Harry, Ron, and Hermione were with him, trying to console him.
"They'll kill him!" Hagrid sobbed, his face buried in his enormous hands. "Dumbledore can't help me with this one. It's the law. They'll kill Norbert!"
"We'll send him to my brother, Charlie!" Ron proposed, his face earnest. "He works with dragons in Romania!"
It was a noble, foolish, Gryffindor plan. It was also messy and unpredictable. It was time for my intervention.
I stepped into the hut, my own face a mask of grave concern. "Hagrid, that's too risky," I said, my voice calm and authoritative. "Sending a dragon by owl post? The Ministry will trace it in a heartbeat. You'll all be expelled, and Hagrid will end up in Azkaban."
The trio stared at me, their hopeful expressions crumbling.
"Then what do we do?" Harry asked, his voice laced with desperation.
"You need a professional," I said. "Someone discreet, who operates outside the Ministry's official channels." I leaned in, my voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Before I came to Hogwarts, I had dealings with certain... specialists in the magical creature trade. One of them owes me a favor. He can arrange for Norbert to be transported to a private, secure sanctuary in the Carpathian Mountains. No questions asked."
It was, of course, a complete fabrication. But to the desperate gamekeeper and the three Gryffindors, it sounded like a perfect solution. I used a subtle pulse of[Desire's Reflection], projecting into Hagrid's mind a fleeting, powerful image of a magnificent, adult Norbert soaring free against a backdrop of snowy mountains.
Hagrid's face, wracked with sobs a moment before, firmed with resolve. "Alright, Tom," he said, wiping his eyes. "I trust yeh. We'll do it your way."
The plan was set for midnight. We would crate the dragon and transport it to the edge of the Forbidden Forest, where my "contact" would be waiting.
Under the cover of Harry's Invisibility Cloak, the five of us wrestled the struggling, fire-breathing Norbert into a large, reinforced crate. The journey to the forest's edge was a nightmare. The crate bucked and smoked, and we nearly ran into Professor McGonagall, who was dragging a furious Malfoy by the ear to serve his detention with Hagrid. It was a close call, a perfect storm of chaos that I had orchestrated.
We finally reached the designated clearing. "You three should go," I said to the Gryffindors. "My contact values secrecy. It's better if they don't see too many faces. I can handle it from here."
Reluctantly, they agreed, trusting the Slytherin who had become their unlikely problem-solver. They handed me the Invisibility Cloak for my return journey and disappeared back towards the castle.
I stood alone in the darkness, the only sounds the angry scrabbling of the dragon in its crate and the whisper of the wind through the ancient trees.
A few moments later, my real contacts arrived. Blaise Zabini and Theodore Nott emerged from the shadows, their faces pale but their expressions resolute.
"Is that it?" Zabini whispered, his eyes wide as a plume of smoke escaped the crate.
"That's it," I confirmed. "Our prize. Let's move it to the designated location."
We spent the next hour levitating the heavy, bucking crate deeper into the forest, to a secluded, ancient ruin I had discovered during my explorations—a place shielded by old, powerful wards that would hide it from both casual observers and the school's detection spells.
Finally, the crate was secured within the crumbling stone walls. My two followers looked at me, their faces a mixture of fear and adrenaline-fueled excitement.
"What now, Tom?" Nott asked.
I looked at the crate, at the magnificent, dangerous creature within. I had lied to Hagrid. I had manipulated the Golden Trio. I had used my own followers. I had stolen a dragon.
The first phase of my plan was complete. Now came the next, most dangerous step. I needed to let it grow, to let it mature into the powerful magical creature I required. And when the time was right, I would have to perform a dark and terrible act. I would have to kill it.
Because an undead dragon, a Dracolich bound to my will for eternity, was infinitely more valuable than a living one.
"Now," I said, a cold smile touching my lips in the darkness. "We wait."