“Hagrid,” Hermione said gently. “You know you can’t keep Norberta here on Hogwarts grounds. Headmaster Merlin may have a soft spot for dangerous creatures, just like you, but even he won’t turn a blind eye to a contraband dragon. And you can’t possibly think you can keep it a secret from him…?”
Hagrid sat rigid for a long moment, chewing his lips and staring hard at Hermione. Then he slumped back again, producing a strained creak from his chair. “I know,” he admitted sadly. “I’ve known all along. It’s daft, it is. I guess I was just hopin’ that, once th’ deed was done an’ she was here…”
“It’s better this way,” Harry nodded. “For everybody involved.”
“Not fer Norberta!” Hagrid exclaimed, lifting his shaggy head again. “She’ll go crazy, all cooped up with them Romanian Longhorns!
They’re not compatible with Ridgebacks, an’ they’re powerful territorial creatures, those Longhorns! Norberta’s already half-lame, what with ‘er bad wing! They’ll sense weakness an’ make mincemeat out o’ the poor old girl!”
“It’s already settled,” Ron said, finally looking up from the table.
“If we can get Norberta out of the city on your ship, we only have to get her as far as the wizard port in Bruges. We’ve arranged an airship that can get her the rest of the way to Charlie in Bra?ov, no questions asked, cash on the barrelhead.”
“An’ whose payin’ fer it?” Hagrid demanded, clearly groping for any excuse to deny the plan.
“We all pitched in,” Hermione said, watching Hagrid closely, letting him see her eyes. “And you can, too, if you want. It’s less than you might think. And it’s the least we can do. After all, we really are partly responsible for this whole thing. Even if some of us did try to act as a voice of reason before the fact.” Here, she glanced up at Ralph and offered a small, commiserating smile.
Hagrid drew a huge, quaking sigh, and then nodded slowly. “I suppose yer right. But I won’t let any o’ yeh lot pay a single knut for th’ transport. I’ve plenty o’ money put away, an’ no other ideas what t’ do with it. This is as good a way to spend it as any. The best way of all, prob’ly.”
Hermione nodded and relaxed in her seat.
Ralph asked, “So, if the first job is to find Norberta, how exactly do we do that?”
“There’s no ‘we’,” Harry countered, looking up at the big boy, and then at James and Rose. “You three have done enough already. All we need you for now is to help us pinpoint precisely where Norberta was headed. We’ll take it from there.”
“Thank you,” Ralph said again, finally collapsing into Hagrid’s huge armchair before the fire.
“But Mum—!” Rose protested, but her mother was already shaking her head firmly.
“Not a chance, Rose,” she said, brooking no argument. “You have school tomorrow. No way I’m allowing you to stay out to who knows what hour tonight, even if I can keep my eyes on you this time.”
James blinked in surprise. “We’re doing it tonight?”
“We are doing it,” his father clarified patiently, nodding aside at Ron and Hermione. “We can’t afford to wait any longer. Norberta won’t stay hidden forever. We need to find her now, and get her out of the city immediately, before this whole mess goes total disaster and we’re all on the hook for it.”
“Some more than others,” Ron pointed out quickly, glancing around the table. “Just so we’re clear on that. Yeah?” He turned his gaze apologetically to Hagrid, who nodded sadly.
Rose crossed her arms sullenly. “She was headed southwest,” she admitted in a taut voice. “Low, skipping over cars and rooftops. She couldn’t have gotten far.”
Ron leaned past Hermione and kissed his daughter on the top of her head. “Thanks love. And for what it’s worth, I wish you could come along. But your mum’s right. What kind of dad would I be if I took you out dragon-hunting on a school-night?”
“A bloody brilliant one?” Rose suggested, glancing up at him from beneath her eyebrows.
“Spot on,” he nodded gravely. Hermione elbowed him aside with a roll of her eyes.
“So where will she be hiding?” Ralph asked from the armchair.
“The sewers, maybe?”
Hagrid shook his head. “Nah, nah,” he sighed, “Norwegian Ridgebacks are powerful good at hidin’, but they’ll always look fer someplace that feels recognizable to ‘em. Someplace that reminds ‘em o’ their ancestral homeland, all comfortin’ and familiar.”
“Charlie says the same thing,” Ron agreed. “He says they have strong memories burnt into their instincts of the lands and places they originally came from. He says all we have to do is find someplace that looks and feels like it might fit right into the Norwegian countryside, a hundred years ago.”
James frowned at his uncle. “In modern London?”
Ron shrugged. “Well… sure. You know. Something that feels Norwegian-like. So…” He looked around at the others, “what do things look like in Norway, then?”
“There’s lots of fjords,” Ralph suggested. “My dad’s always going on about the fjords. Says he means to take us there to see them someday. Says they’re a wonder of the world.”
Rose gave a brisk sigh. “There aren’t any fjords in central London.”
“All right, then,” Harry said with a nod. “So, buildings and things. What would look Norwegian enough to attract a scared and homesick dragon?”
Ron sat up and pointed at Harry in inspiration. “Moss on roofs!
With, like, trees growing on top. Right? All fairy-tale and heavy wood and fancy cut-outs on the doors, that sort of thing.” He glanced aside at Hermione. “Er, right?”
“This is definitely a problem,” Harry said, “if none of us has any idea what architectural details might look Norwegian enough to attract a wayward dragon.”
“Um,” James said, his eyes going wide as an idea materialized, fully formed, in his head. “Will you let me come along tonight…?”
“No,” Hermione repeated, putting her hand down on the table.
“We’ve already been over this— ”
“IF,” James interrupted, glancing from his aunt to his father, knowing that he was severely pressing his luck, “if I can find us an expert on all sorts of architecture?”
Harry studied his son, his eyes probing, skeptical but reluctantly considering. “And just who,” he asked slowly, “might this architectural expert be?”
19. – Back to London
“You told your dad!?” Millie hissed, her eyes bulging in the shadows outside the Hufflepuff common room door.
“I didn’t say any names,” James whispered defensively, glancing around to assure they weren’t overheard. The stacks of barrels along the corridor offered a nominal hiding place, and the low ceiling eliminated echoes. Dimly, a little wistfully, James remembered kissing Millie in almost this exact spot only a few weeks earlier. “I just said I knew somebody who knows architecture. And I can’t tell you what we need a person like that for. Not until you agree to come. And I really hope you will, because, well, we really do need you and your architectural expertise.”