Harry Potter: From Baldur's Gate to Hogwarts

Hagrid had completely ignored Hermione's advice. In fact, his eyes were solely fixated on the dragon egg. At this point, he had probably forgotten about Hermione, Harry, and Ron altogether.

He hummed cheerfully, fiddling with the fire to ensure the egg received even heating. He paid no attention to the three students and didn't even notice when they left his hut.

Seven days later, during lunch, Hedwig delivered a note to Harry while he and Hermione were reading The Daily Prophet. The note, written in messy handwriting, read:

The dragon is about to hatch.

Upon hearing this news, Ron couldn't sit still. He immediately decided to skip Herbology and head to Hagrid's hut to witness the dragon's birth.

However—

"No way! Even if it's urgent, you can't skip class! You're a student, Ron!" Hermione's words immediately shut down any protests Ron had.

Left with no choice, Ron endured the entire class while fidgeting restlessly (not absorbing a single word). The moment the professor announced the end of class, Ron bolted out the door toward Hagrid's hut. Harry and Hermione shook their heads helplessly and followed.

As they left the classroom, a blond figure crept after them, moving stealthily.

Hagrid opened the door to greet them, his face glowing with excitement.

"It's about to hatch," Hagrid said as he stepped aside to let them in, quickly shutting the door behind them.

In the dimly lit room, a large black egg wobbled slightly on the table, a crack spreading across its shell.

From inside the egg came a curious clicking sound, as if something inside was restlessly moving about.

Both Hagrid and Ron squatted in front of the table, staring excitedly at the widening crack in the shell.

Hagrid & Ron: "It's coming out! It's almost here! Oh—there it is!"

With a sharp scraping sound, the egg split open. A wrinkled black dragon flailed wildly on the tabletop.

"Oh, what a beautiful creature, isn't it?" Hagrid carefully extended his hand to stroke the newborn Norwegian Ridgeback dragon. The little dragon immediately bit Hagrid's finger with its sharp teeth, gnawing fiercely.

"Look, it recognizes its mother!" Hagrid's eyes were practically overflowing with maternal love.

"Beautiful?" Harry's gaze swept over the dragon's spiky wings, scrawny black body, and oversized white snout. He picked it up for a closer look (ignoring Hagrid's startled exclamation) and shook it gently. "It just looks weak to me."

As Harry activated his Appraisal skill, the little dragon sensed something entering its body and began to struggle violently. It opened its tiny mouth wide and spat sparks at Harry.

"Whoa, it's pretty lively—nice!" Harry praised as he reviewed the information from his appraisal.

--

Norwegian Ridgeback (Bipedal Dragon)

Type: Large Dragon

Alignment: None

Armor Class: 13 (natural armor)

Hit Points: 11

Speed: 1 ft per second; flying 80 ft per second

Strength: 19 (14 as a juvenile)

Dexterity: 10

Constitution: 16 (juvenile - 4)

Intelligence: 5

Perception: 12

Charisma: 6

Skills: Perception +4

Senses: Darkvision 60 ft, passive Perception 14 ft

Languages: --

Challenge Level: 6 (currently 0)

Aerial Hunter: Dragons do not engage in ground combat unless unable to catch prey by other means or lured to a disadvantageous location. On the ground, dragons crouch low, hissing and roaring while keeping their spiked tails raised over their heads.

Aggressive and Reckless: Dragons rarely abandon their prey unless injured or if other easier targets are nearby.

Taming Dragons: Dragons can be tamed as mounts, but doing so is a difficult and deadly challenge. Starting with a young dragon can ease the process, though their fierce temperament has claimed the lives of many aspiring masters.

--

Having once ridden a red dragon with Lae'zel, Harry couldn't help but show a look of disdain. This little creature's growth potential was far inferior to that of a true dragon. Still... it might be fun to raise as a pet.

Magic surged as Harry raised his right hand, casting Speak with Animals on himself.

"Let me go! I'll kill you! Let me go! I'll kill you!" The little dragon's relentless curses rang in Harry's ears as soon as the spell took effect.

"Shut up. Calm down!" Harry's voice, influenced by the spell, became a deep, commanding growl.

The little dragon immediately stopped struggling. Its big eyes blinked curiously as it stared at this strange member of its own kind.

"Huh? Harry, were you imitating a dragon roar just now? That was pretty good," Ron said curiously. "Let me try."

A garbled growl came out of Ron's mouth.

"Never mind, I can't do it," Ron said dejectedly.

As the group continued fussing over the little dragon, Hermione suddenly noticed a beam of sunlight.

"That's strange. Hagrid should have covered all the windows with curtains..." The young witch followed the beam of light with her gaze.

"There's a pair of eyes watching us through the window!" Hermione's panicked voice echoed through the hut.

Hagrid clumsily started tidying the table, while Harry and Ron dashed past the clutter toward the wooden door. They flung it open and rushed outside.

Unfortunately, the intruder was already running far away.

Even though they only caught a glimpse of a retreating figure, Harry and Ron recognized the person sprinting up the lawn.

"Malfoy..."

Ron's voice was filled with gritted-teeth fury.

--

More than a week passed. Unlike the other students who explored the still-vacant research halls, Harry, Ron, and Hermione sneaked under Harry's invisibility cloak every night to visit Hagrid's hut and check on the little dragon.

Each time the little dragon saw Harry, it would excitedly pounce on him, circle his feet, perch on his shoulder, or cling to his head, chattering incessantly. Harry would laugh and respond with low growls.

Watching the little fire dragon and Harry playfully roughhouse, seeing how the dragon showed Harry unrestrained affection, made not only Hermione and Ron green with jealousy, but even Hagrid started feeling a bit envious.

Originally, Hagrid had planned to name the Norwegian Ridgeback "Norbert." However, no matter how hard he tried, the little dragon always ignored his calls. And so, its name ended up as: "Little Fire Dragon · Norbert (Pending)."

Yes, in the end, Hagrid reluctantly ceded the naming rights to Harry, and Harry, not wanting to fuss over it, simply named it "Little Fire Dragon."

"Hagrid, it's been just over a week since it hatched, and the little fire dragon has already tripled in size. Pretty soon, your house won't be able to hold it anymore," Hermione said worriedly as she watched the dragon lower its head and gulp down the brandy mixed with chicken blood that Harry was feeding it. "Harry can't always be here to take care of it for you. What if it flies into the school while he's not around?"

"I... I know I can't keep it forever," Hagrid bit his lip, looking troubled. "But I can't just abandon it either…"

"Oh! We can send it to my brother Charlie!" Ron suddenly slapped his thigh. "Charlie studies dragons in Romania. We could send Norbert to him, and he can take care of it until it's ready to be released into the wild."

"But..." Hagrid still looked conflicted. "It's still so little… I can't bear to part with it…"

"Since you're so reluctant to part with the little guy, why not just let it live in the Forbidden Forest?" Harry suggested, patting the dragon's head. "The forest is big enough, and I can make sure it knows not to leave the area. That way, you can visit anytime you want. But… we'd need to get Professor Dumbledore's approval first. The Forbidden Forest is too close to the school."

Hagrid happily agreed to Harry's idea.

So, the next day, Hagrid, Harry, Hermione, and Ron went to the Headmaster's office together.

It was Hermione and Ron's first time there, and they sat stiffly in their chairs, not daring to move, speak, or even breathe too loudly.

Harry, on the other hand, was much more at ease. Seeing that Dumbledore was still discussing the matter with Hagrid, he wandered over to Fawkes, who was perched on his stand with his eyes closed, dozing. Clearing his throat, Harry let out a soft bird call. (Hello, Fawkes.)

Fawkes immediately opened his eyes and looked at Harry in surprise, then chirped back tentatively. (Dumbledore? Is that you?)

"I'm not Dumbledore. Fawkes… sir? Or ma'am?" (Coo? Coo?)

"Just call me Fawkes. Phoenixes have no gender," Fawkes responded in a gentle, neutral voice. (Coo.)

"So, little wizard, you speak bird language?" (Coo coo, coo?)

"No, it's just a spell effect." (Coo.)

At first, no one paid much attention when the first bird call rang out. But as they watched Harry and Fawkes cooing back and forth, even Dumbledore couldn't stay calm.

Based on Hagrid's description, Dumbledore had suspected that Harry might be the only known Parselmouth in the magical world capable of speaking to dragons. But now, it seemed Harry could communicate with birds too? Or was it…

Noticing everyone staring at him in astonishment, Harry tilted his head in confusion. "Why are you all looking at me? Go on with your discussion, I'm just chatting with Fawkes. No need to mind us."

"Ahem. Harry, about the Norwegian Ridgeback… I actually have a better solution," Dumbledore said, conjuring a chair beside his desk with a wave of his hand, motioning for Harry to sit down instead of amusing himself with the phoenix.

"As I was saying," Dumbledore continued once Harry had taken a seat, folding his hands on the desk. The five gemstones on his right-hand ring gleamed in the sunlight. "After discussing with Hagrid and hearing from you all, Harry, are you sure you can control the Norwegian Ridgeback?"

Dumbledore looked at Harry, who shook his head. "No, Professor Dumbledore, not control—persuade. As long as it has enough food and isn't provoked, I'm fairly confident I can convince it not to harm anyone."

"Very well. That settles the safety concern until a proper dragon reserve is established," Dumbledore nodded. "As for the Norwegian Ridgeback, my suggestion is to temporarily house it in the Forbidden Forest. I'll speak with the centaurs and ask them to help keep an eye on… the little fire dragon."

"A dragon reserve?" Harry pondered for a moment, then clapped his hands together. "That's actually a great idea!"

"Then it's settled," Dumbledore stood up. "I'll handle the negotiations with the school board about setting up a reserve. You all can go back and rest. Oh, Harry, stay behind—I have something to discuss with you."

After Hagrid and the others left, Dumbledore retrieved an ornate diadem from a cabinet behind him.

"This… is that Horcrux?" Harry stared at it for a long time before finally recalling a tattered object in his memory that looked very similar.

"Yes, Harry, this was a Horcrux," Dumbledore gently placed the diadem on the desk. Now restored to its original state, it shimmered beautifully in the sunlight.

"But it is also the legendary diadem of Rowena Ravenclaw."

"You mean who?!" Harry's eyes widened as he stared at the once-cursed artifact, though now, he could no longer sense any lingering evil from it.

"One of Hogwarts' founders and the creator of Ravenclaw House—Rowena Ravenclaw," Dumbledore said solemnly, his gaze fixed on the diadem as his left hand idly turned the ring on his right hand. The gemstones embedded in it reflected the sunlight in a dazzling array of colors.

"It took an extremely powerful spell to destroy the fragment of Voldemort's soul within the diadem. Afterward, I sent it to an old friend skilled in alchemy. It wasn't until two days ago that he finally returned it to me, fully restored."

"So… what exactly did you need me for, Professor?" Harry asked.

"Harry, earlier you were able to communicate with Fawkes using magic from the other world, correct?" Instead of answering Harry's question, Dumbledore veered onto a completely unrelated topic.

Harry nodded.

"Then can you disable the spell for a moment?"

Though unsure of Dumbledore's intent, Harry raised a hand and dispelled the spell, which otherwise would have lasted a full day.

Then, Dumbledore pointed his wand at the desk, which suddenly transformed into a large, sluggishly writhing python.

"Try speaking to the snake, Harry."

"Uh… hello?"

"Not in English. In Parseltongue."

"… Hisssss—hiss hiss hiss?"

"That's not Parseltongue, Harry. You're just making random hissing noises…"

Dumbledore waved his wand, turning the python back into a desk. For some reason, he seemed rather pleased.

"Alright, Harry, go get some rest. I'll call you if anything comes up."

Dumbledore then reached into a nearby pile of cockroaches, plucked out a struggling black one, and popped it into his mouth, chewing contentedly.

Completely bewildered, Harry left the Headmaster's office.

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