At nine in the evening, Harry knocked on Snape's office door. Snape had genuinely hoped Potter wouldn't show up, but alas, his hopes were dashed.
"Come in."
Watching Potter saunter in, Snape's immediate instinct was to sneer. "The great Boy Who Lived clearly has his own unique concept of time. It's already 9:01, quite the tardy arrival, wouldn't you say?"
Harry wasn't about to back down. "It was nine o'clock when I arrived at your door."
Snape's anger twisted into a cold smile. "Should I perhaps provide the Boy Who Lived with a key, so he can waltz right into a professor's office whenever he pleases?"
"No thanks, I'm not my mum. Not much interest in a greasy office."
"Oh, very well... Now, off to the Potions classroom, and no wands. Deal with the slugs in there, and then you may leave." Snape's voice suddenly grew eerily calm.
Harry raised an eyebrow. If Snape preferred not to be in the same room as him, he was perfectly happy with that arrangement.
At eleven o'clock, Harry dragged his weary self back to the Gryffindor common room. Hermione swiftly handed him a glass of water.
"That blasted Snape, deliberately tormenting me. Those slugs had some sort of spell on them; they just exploded if I tried to use my wand!" Harry grumbled after taking a sip of water.
"Perhaps you should have thought about the consequences when you decided to duel Professor Snape," Hermione retorted, rolling her eyes.
"Why are you calling him 'Professor' again?" Harry noticed the change.
"Because he's actually teaching us things that aren't in the books," Hermione said earnestly.
"Hmmph," Harry mumbled noncommittally.
Whatever Dumbledore did, it certainly worked. Lucius Malfoy didn't come hounding Harry, and Draco Malfoy quieted down significantly. He'd actually duck his head whenever he saw Harry now.
But good times never last, do they? Buoyed by the fawning of Parkinson and his cronies, Malfoy soon reverted to his usual self, trying to pick fights with Harry once more.
One time, Malfoy happened to spot Harry training with the Gryffindor Quidditch team. He immediately ran to Snape, attempting to get himself admitted to the team too. Snape, however, merely gave Malfoy a severe dressing down.
That day, Harry and Hermione went to Hagrid's hut to check on the dragon egg as usual, but today, Dumbledore was there too.
"Good evening, Professor Dumbledore," Harry and Hermione said in unison.
"Ah, Harry. I was wondering when you two would arrive." Dumbledore beckoned Harry and Hermione closer; the dragon egg's temperature was steadily rising.
"It should hatch within the week!" Hagrid exclaimed, utterly thrilled.
"Indeed. I must congratulate you, Hagrid. You've successfully hatched a Norwegian Ridgeback. You could even write a paper on the hatching process and have it published," Dumbledore said softly.
"What? Me? Oh, no, no, no, I haven't even graduated from Hogwarts! How could I publish a paper?" Hagrid's face turned bright red. Harry couldn't tell if it was from the heat or pure embarrassment.
"Hagrid, you absolutely must try publishing that paper," Dumbledore insisted, to Harry's surprise.
"Hagrid, I think Professor Dumbledore means you'll have to publish a paper if you want to keep this dragon," Harry whispered. "Otherwise, the Ministry of Magic won't allow you to raise it."
Hagrid looked utterly bewildered, missing the hint entirely. Hermione, however, suddenly understood. Harry had to be more direct.
"Hagrid, you can only keep it under the pretense of research. Otherwise, we'll have to send it away."
"Harry's quite right, Hagrid. If you can prove it's for research, then I can permit you to keep it in the Forbidden Forest."
"O-okay, I'll t-try my b-best," Hagrid stammered.
"Do write to me if you need anything at all," Dumbledore promised to help within his capabilities. Hagrid excitedly shook Dumbledore's hand.
"Professor Dumbledore, are you... leaving the school?" Harry acutely picked up the hidden meaning in Dumbledore's words.
"What? I-I thought you'd be—"
Hagrid looked on the verge of tears. Dumbledore patted Hagrid's back, comforting him with some difficulty. "Hagrid, I believe you can do it. Your knowledge is no less than Professor Kettleburn's; you could absolutely be the Care of Magical Creatures professor. And besides, Harry and the others are here."
Harry, however, poured cold water on that. He had Quidditch practice and detentions, so he couldn't come often, though he promised to visit whenever he had a free moment.
"It's alright, I'm here! I'll come every day!" Hermione bravely volunteered.
Upon hearing this, Hagrid truly burst into tears. He sobbed, declaring they were all good people, and then shoved a large plate of rock cakes into their pockets.
Over the next few days, Hermione practically lived at the hut, diligently recording the ambient temperature and the dragon egg's condition. Hermione even managed to get a camera from Dumbledore, instructing Hagrid to take a photo of the egg every hour.
"I don't understand, is this really necessary?" Hagrid struggled with the camera in his hands; Harry had cast an Engorgement Charm on it.
"Hagrid, this is crucial! I've researched it. No one has ever hatched a dragon egg with just firewood; the records say wizards always used magical flames! You might be making history!" Hermione gesticulated wildly, looking even more excited than Hagrid.
One day, Hedwig brought Harry a letter from Hagrid. It contained only a single, short sentence: It's about to hatch.
Harry debated skipping Potions class. After all, he was still serving detention with Snape, so Snape couldn't really give him more detention, could he?
But Hermione grabbed Harry's arm, telling him that if he skipped Potions, Snape might discover Hagrid was keeping a dragon. And until the paper was officially published, the dragon's existence had to be kept strictly secret, or the Ministry would take it away, and all their efforts would be for naught.
So, in class, Harry worked faster than usual, skipping steps wherever he could. Hermione fidgeted beside him, hopping on one foot in distress.
"Look, our saviour, Potter, clearly has unique insights into potion-making." Snape sneered, picking up Harry's finished product. It was supposed to be a pale blue, but it had turned dark blue.
"Professor, it's really just a bit darker than the sample, and we finished much faster!" Hermione tried to explain from the side, but Snape didn't even glance at her, simply marking a 'P' (Poor).
Walking to Hagrid's hut, Hermione was still fuming about what had happened. "It's not fair! Malfoy's potion was dark blue too, but Snape gave him an 'O' (Outstanding)! Parkinson's potion was blue-green and she even got an 'A' (Acceptable)!"
"Harry, what are you laughing at? I don't understand why you were in such a hurry; we could have done much better. And even though we finished early, we still had to wait until the end of class to leave."
Harry didn't tell Hermione. He was laughing because he found her annoyed expression rather endearing.
Hagrid ushered them into the hut, eagerly saying, "It's started!"
The egg was placed on Hagrid's table. A deep crack ran through its shell, and continuous tapping and scraping sounds came from within.
"Did you take photos? Did you record the dragon egg's current state and how it differs from before?" Seeing Hagrid shake his head, Hermione glared at him, a look of exasperation on her face, then snatched up the camera and rushed to the egg to begin recording.
Hagrid looked blankly at Harry, who could only shrug.
As the crack on the egg grew wider, Hermione began to pull Harry back. "Harry, quickly, get back! Norwegian Ridgebacks will imprint on the first person they see as their mother!"
Hagrid quickly moved to stand in front of the table.
Suddenly, with a jarring scrape, the egg cracked completely open.
A Norwegian Ridgeback appeared before them all.