[He really loves raising things.]
Ari, lying lazily on Hagrid's bed, reminded Cohen, next to her were many empty butterbeer bottles.
[But I take back what I said before, butterbeer is pretty good.]
A thick blanket was spread on the floor, it seemed Hagrid had chosen to sleep on the floor—a completely unsurprising arrangement.
But for now, Hagrid's attention should have been completely focused on the dragon egg.
"But I don't know anything about this—Cohen, could you help me borrow a few books from the library? About dragon hatching?" Hagrid asked expectantly, "I never thought I could actually get a dragon egg—it looks so beautiful..."
This dragon egg wasn't actually "so beautiful," it looked like a duck egg that was much larger, with a dark shell, and seemed a bit dirty.
"Alright, I'm going to the library to return some books later," Cohen agreed. "I also want to see what a dragon looks like."
Actually, Cohen mainly wanted to see how strong a dragon's soul was. Fawkes, whom he saw at Dumbledore's place last time, had the same soul strength as Dumbledore, so maybe a dragon's soul strength was also above average.
But whether or not to eat it was another matter—Cohen felt it was a bit unreasonable to kill a newborn dragon for that 1% or so of soul integrity; he'd rather steal a lollipop.
Cohen was very efficient at borrowing books because Mrs. Pince was used to Cohen's borrowing frequency of three times a week. As long as the books weren't in the restricted section, she reviewed them quickly.
This time, he borrowed "Dragon Species in Britain and Ireland," "From Dragon Egg to Hell," "The Dragon Taming Guide," and a book called "Raising Dragons for Recreation and Profit."
Mrs. Pince's sharp eyes didn't find any traces of flames on Cohen—she thought that guess was foolish—an eleven-year-old wizard couldn't possibly have gotten his hands on a dragon egg.
When Cohen returned to Hagrid's hut, Hagrid had already eagerly built a small nest and a pot for incubation.
"Dragons take two weeks to hatch," Cohen reminded Hagrid of his overly excited behavior. "And they don't live in cotton nests; that thing will burn your wooden house down."
Then, based on the description in *Species of Fire Dragons in Britain and Ireland*, Hagrid determined the egg was a Norwegian Ridgeback.
They needed to roast the egg over a fire—because the mother dragon would breathe on it—and then wait for the baby to hatch, feeding it chicken blood brandy every half hour after hatching. ("Is dragon saliva brandy?" Cohen questioned the book's account.)
In its egg state, the baby dragon had no soul; Cohen could only see it when it hatched.
And hatching took a full two weeks…
so the responsibility of keeping the fire burning during this time fell to Hagrid.
The holiday was over in a flash, and they had to go back to school.
Hermione returned and, upon hearing that Harry and the others had been out for several nights in a row, expressed motherly anxiety ("What if Filch catches you!").
But what was even more unsettling was yet to come—
Harry had a Quidditch match against Slytherin during the first weekend of school.
The crucial point was that Snape was the referee.
"Snape as referee?!" Ron asked incredulously at breakfast. "Has someone gone mad? When has he ever refereeed a Quidditch match?!"
"He's definitely up to no good," Hermione now firmly suspected Snape. "Perhaps Cohen, you could teach us how to cast that counter-curse, in case he tries to harm Harry again..."
"A Saint can't be defeated twice by the same trick,"
Cohen shook his head, because the troublemakers weren't Snape, but Quirrell and himself.
Now that Snape was the referee, Quirrell certainly wouldn't dare to act recklessly again—the referee could see almost the entire pitch and easily spot who was using a curse.
"He failed last time, so he can't possibly fail again with the same trick this time,"
Harry and the others lamented.
"Don't participate in the match," Hermione said worriedly.
"Just say you're sick?" Ron suggested.
"Or pretend to break your leg?" Hermione asked.
"Really break my leg." Ron seemed to have made up his mind.
"I'll break your leg." Cohen said with certainty, "You just need to pay me ten Galleons, after all, I'll be in solitary confinement for a week for beating up a classmate."
With that, Cohen drew his wand.
"Ha, thank you,"
Harry replied dryly to Cohen.
"But I can't do that. There's no substitute Seeker in the team. If I quit, Gryffindor won't be able to play this match."
Harry, Ron, and Hermione had all prepared for the worst, but the Quidditch match went exactly as Cohen predicted—Harry didn't have any mishaps.
And this time, Dumbledore was also there, so Quirrell was even less likely to cheat.
Without outside interference, the match was over in almost five minutes; Harry's head-locking speed was like he had cheated.
"He cheated!"
an unknown captain of the Slytherin team shouted again—last time he had yelled that it was unfair because Harry caught the Golden Snitch with his mouth.
But…
"So what if he cheated?"
Cohen said nonchalantly for Harry:
"This match was all about hard work and sweat, right, Harry?"
"Indeed." Harry's face was beaming with an uncontrollable smile.
Harry's happiness lasted for half a day, or perhaps less.
Because when Cohen saw Harry again in the common room, his face was full of melancholy.
Hermione and Ron beside him also looked uneasy.
After Cohen sat down, they began whispering to him about Harry's experience after the tournament—
Harry was about to take his brooms to the broomhouse when he saw a hooded figure quickly leave the castle and rush towards the Forbidden Forest.
"I rode my broom and followed, and it was Snape and Quirrell," Harry said worriedly. "I overheard their conversation; Snape was blackmailing Quirrell into stealing the Philosopher's Stone for him."
"We'll assassinate Snape?" Cohen raised an eyebrow.
"If we could," Harry said dreamily.
"Don't even think about it. You won't be able to kill Snape even in five years," Cohen shattered Harry's fantasy. "Instead of worrying about that, worry about your homework that you haven't done yet this week."
The following week, Harry resumed his carefree Hogwarts detective life due to the weekly homework update.
To find out the magic protecting the Philosopher's Stone, Harry and his friends went to Hagrid, the only person they could ask about it.
Inevitably, the other three also discovered that Hagrid had hidden such a large dragon egg in his house.
"Shh—" Hagrid pulled the four of them into the house, "Don't tell anyone, this is mine and Cohen's—"
"Hagrid, you've already given me away." Cohen reminded him somewhat nervously, although it wasn't a big deal.
"Oh—sorry..." Hagrid hastily covered his mouth.
"You were raising a dragon and didn't tell us!" Harry asked Cohen incredulously.
"That's illegal, Cohen!" Hermione exclaimed anxiously. "And Hagrid lives in the cabin!"
"We'll move him to a different place once he's bigger," Cohen said, already having a plan for the dragon. "Don't worry."
"I'm keeping an eye on the time," Hagrid said, having almost completely forgotten their legal discussion. He was only concerned with when the dragon egg would hatch. "The baby dragon will hatch in two days—you definitely don't want to miss this—you can be the first people to see the baby dragon after it's born!" Hopefully,
the baby dragon won't be scared by a hybrid evil creature right after it's born…
Cohen felt that Norbert would spend his entire life healing from the psychological trauma he suffered when he was first born.
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(End of Chapter)