"Charlie?" Millie asked.
"My brother. He works at a dragon preserve."
"In Romania," said Teddy, his face taking on his deep thinking expression.
"That's what I said," said Ron, going a bit red in the cheeks.
"Which might be the best place for little Norbert, right?" Harry asked quickly.
"I think it would not be a bad idea to give Hagrid the opportunity to let the dragon go," Teddy said. "He's going to find out very quickly that it's hard to keep a fire-breathing dragon in a small, wooden hut."
"Did you see how much it had grown in just an hour?" said Millie. "That Norwegian Ridgeback will outstrip a niffler before the end of the night."
"Niffler?" Harry whispered to her.
"Later," she whispered back before saying more loudly, "Whyn't you ask your brother if the preserve can take in another dragon, Weasley? That way, Hagrid won't get in any trouble and the little fella will have somewhere nice to grow up."
Harry grinned at her. "You're really taken with widdle Norbert, aren't you."
Millie punched his arm. Hard. "Yeah, as much as you fancy Fluffy."
"Oh, eww."
"Who's Fluffy?" Ron asked. "Hagrid mentioned the name, too."
Harry, Millie and Teddy exchanged glances. Teddy shrugged. "Might as well tell him. It's not like it's that big a secret if we found out."
Harry nodded and beckoned Ron closer so he could speak softly, even though they were still a hundred feet from the castle doors. "Fluffy is a cerberus. A three-headed hell hound. It's what's on the third floor, the reason we're all warned away from there."
"A . . . a cerberus? In the school? Are they mental?"
"Quite probably," said Teddy.
"But why? Why is there a hell hound on the third floor?"
"We figure it's guarding something," Millie told him, which was the truth. But, after a flick of a glance at her fellow Slytherins, she added, "We don't know what, though," which was not, really.
Ron's face had gone all funny, like he was passing gas, but then Harry realized the other boy was thinking -- it was the same face he wore during their occasional chess games, specifically the ones in which Harry did better than usual (and sometimes won.) "I wonder," he said after a moment, "if Hagrid has told anyone else what soothes 'Fluffy' to sleep."
The three Slytherins exchanged another glance. It was a very good question.
--BETTER BE SLYTHERIN--
Almost two weeks later, when Norbert was the size of a large dog and had poison fangs to boot, having bitten Ron when he visited one afternoon, Harry and Teddy were heaving a crate full of dragon up many, many steps to the top of the highest tower of Hogwarts. The two of them and the crate were covered by Harry's Invisibility Cloak. Millie was their lookout and guide, since neither of them could see much more than their feet. She led them up to the tower's top by as quick a route as possible, and they tried very hard to keep quiet. It was nearly midnight, so they were in danger of being caught out of bounds, but it was only at night that Norbert could be transported by broom across British skies to Romania.
They were almost there. Everything seemed to be going splendidly, in fact, until . . .
"Well, well, well. We are in trouble, aren't we," a nasty voice said, just as they reached a landing and could pause for a breath. Filch!
"Good evening, Mr. Filch," said Millie, proper as could be. Harry's knees knocked together and he forced them to stop. If they were caught, they'd all have to face some vile punishment, and Hagrid would get in really serious trouble, too. What was Millie doing? The crate grew heavier and heavier in his arms as they stood there, muscles trembling while they were forced to stand still. Sweat rolled off his brow into his eyes.
Filch's voice became more oily. "What are you doing out of bed, missy? It's far past curfew. Your Head of House will want to hear about this, oh, yes he will."
Mrs. Norris, Filch's cat, came sniffing around the boys' legs, and they stood perfectly still, not wanting to let her under the cloak, where she would disappear. There was no way Filch would miss seeing that.
"I'm terribly sorry, Mr. Filch, I'll . . ." Millie broke off suddenly, then gasped and pointed down the stairs in the opposite direction of Harry and Teddy and their dragon. "What the . . . Did you see that?!" she demanded, her eyes wide. "Peeves!" she shouted as she tore after the figment of her imagination, forcing Filch to chase her, or else let her go without punishment. Mrs. Norris bounded after them, apparently forgetting about her earlier sniffing.
"Peeves!" Filch roared as he raced down the stairs. "I'll get you this time!"
The boys stifled the laughter that wanted to bubble up and started moving up the stairs again instead. Millie had saved them!
This last set of stairs led to the top of the tower, and when they reached it at last, they were both panting for breath. Norbert was just waking from the dose of sleeping draught Hagrid had given him, and he started snapping and clawing at the sides of the crate. Fortunately, a young man stepped forward from the gloom of the tower top, under the overcast sky. He was skinny, but his arms were cords of muscle, and his skin was dark brown from the sun. "Ron?" he asked.
Harry and Teddy shed the Invisibility cloak. "No, I'm Harry. Ron couldn't make it, 'cause this blighter bit him. But Charlie told him you'd take Norbert to Romania for us?"
"We can. I'm Edward, Charlie's friend. These other blokes are helping out. Let's get the wee beast strapped into the harness." Over the next few minutes, they did just that. The four broom riders had a harness ready for the crate, to carry it between them, so no one person was saddled with all the weight.
Harry and Teddy said a quick goodbye to Norbert as the broom riders flew off the top of the tower, and Harry grabbed his cloak as they headed downstairs again.
In the Slytherin Common Room, Harry and Teddy waited up for Millie to return. While they waited, Harry wondered aloud to Teddy why Snape hadn't known they were out of bounds.
"He only has his alarms and such up for the first couple months or so each year. After that, he figures students know enough not to get caught, and he doesn't have to chase after us all the time. My cousin graduated last year, and she told me our Head drops any special alarms around Christmas."
Harry nodded, glad to know that, but also wondering to himself where the Bloody Baron had been tonight. Maybe he and Snape were together, talking or plotting together, both of them assuming Harry was asleep in bed. While sitting and waiting for Millie to come in, Harry experienced a strange sense of longing. For some weird reason, he wished he could confide in the professor like he used to do. He would love to tell the professor about the dragon. Oh, not to get Hagrid in trouble, of course, but because he would have liked to share his first sighting of a dragon with the man -- though not tonight's adventure, certainly. But he couldn't. He couldn't share anything like that anymore. After all, Snape was working with Quirrell to try and kill him . . . no, he couldn't think that, not really. Snape wasn't trying to kill him, probably. But he was trying to get the Stone.
A Stone that would bring Lord Voldemort back to life, and back to power as well. With that Sorcerer's Stone, and the potion he could make with it, Voldemort would let loose another reign of terror such as the one he'd unleashed before Harry's parents had been killed. It was likely Voldemort would try and kill Harry again.
Once more, Harry wished Snape wasn't involved with the scheme. He wished it really, really hard. But any doubts he had had of the man's intentions towards him had been squashed quite soundly in Potions class week after week for the last couple months. Snape had belittled him each day and snarled at him, and then vanished his potions and made him do them over or get no credit. And his eyes . . . Snape's eyes were dark and cold now, like black tunnels leading nowhere.