The Dragon Hatches

One weekend afternoon, Silas, Harry, Ron, and Hermione slipped out of the castle quietly through a portal. They arrived at Hagrid's hut, where Hagrid had already been anxiously peering out from the doorway. The moment he saw them, he pulled them inside, his face overflowing with barely restrained excitement.

"Come in, come in! The baby dragon's about to hatch! I can hear something moving inside!" Hagrid said excitedly, rubbing his huge hands together.

Beside the fireplace, the Norwegian Ridgeback egg was shaking violently. Fine cracks had appeared across its shell, and faint yet shrill scratching sounds came from within.

The four of them gathered around the fireplace, staring at the egg with nervous anticipation. Hermione quietly recited what she knew about dragon hatching, while Harry and Ron stared with wide eyes.

At last, with a crisp crack, a small hole broke open at the top of the shell. A tiny, black, scaly, wrinkled claw stretched out and desperately clawed at the shell. The crack widened, and before long, an equally wrinkled little head poked out. It sneezed, sending a few sparks shooting from its nostrils.

Then the entire baby dragon struggled free from the shattered shell and flopped onto the warm ashes, making tiny hiccup-like noises and occasionally puffing out smoke and sparks. It looked ugly, yet it carried the wonder of new life.

"Oh! It's beautiful!" Hagrid sighed lovingly. Though Silas felt Hagrid's rose-tinted glasses for the little dragon were thicker than the walls, the giant man's body trembled with excitement. He carefully reached out a finger and gently stroked the baby dragon's wrinkled back, his eyes growing moist as he beamed like a child over six feet tall.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione were also captivated by the magical sight and leaned closer to observe the newborn dragon carefully.

However, amid the warm—and somewhat chaotic—atmosphere, Silas's sharp gaze caught sight of a platinum-blond head flashing past behind some bushes not far outside the hut's window!

It was Draco Malfoy! He had clearly followed them in secret and witnessed the baby dragon hatch! Malfoy's face held the smug delight and malice of someone who had discovered a huge secret. He was quickly turning away, apparently intending to run off and report Hagrid's illegal dragon breeding to Professor McGonagall or Snape!

Silas's eyes narrowed, and he did not hesitate for even a moment. He could not even be bothered to use the door. He took two steps back, made a running start, and, before Harry and the others' astonished eyes, nimbly vaulted out through the hut's open window!

The Levitating Cloak snapped behind him, cushioning his fall and giving him buoyancy as he landed lightly in the clearing outside the hut.

The moment he landed, he sprinted after Malfoy like a red bolt of lightning, leaving only a brief sentence drifting back to the stunned Harry and the others:

"Malfoy saw the baby dragon. I'm going to threaten him!"

His tone was calm, but it carried an unquestionable resolve. As Hagrid, Harry, and the others watched Silas's rapidly retreating figure, they all understood that Silas's idea of "threatening" someone would probably not be very gentle. Malfoy was likely in for another bout of bad luck.

Meanwhile, Draco Malfoy was thrilled by his discovery of Hagrid's shocking secret: illegal dragon breeding. As he hurried through the bushes, he plotted how to report it to Professor Snape so Potter and his friends would receive severe punishment. Better yet, perhaps that big idiot Hagrid could be driven out of Hogwarts too!

The more he thought about it, the more pleased he became, a vicious smile curling across his lips.

However, he had barely run any distance when his ankle suddenly tightened! A powerful force instantly tripped him, and he crashed heavily to the ground with a thud, getting a mouthful of dirt and dead leaves.

"Ah! What is this?!" Malfoy shrieked in terror. He struggled to get up, only to discover that several scarlet energy ropes, radiating searing heat like red-hot branding irons, had tightly wrapped around his feet! The ropes not only bound him so firmly that he could not move, but also carried a sealing sensation that made his magic stagnate!

He writhed helplessly on the ground like a fish dragged ashore.

Then that force began to pull him! He was dragged backward across the rough ground, his robes torn and his skin scraped raw. Grimacing in pain, he let out terrified whimpers.

A few seconds later, the dragging stopped. Dizzy and disoriented, Malfoy raised his head and saw a pair of polished black boots. Looking up sharply, he found a face wearing a faintly amused expression—Silas Cyril was looking down at him, danger glinting in his eyes.

Silas bent down, leaning close to Malfoy's face, twisted by fear and fury. In an exaggerated tone filled with mockery and cold killing intent, he slowly asked:

"Wow... where is our little Master Malfoy hurrying off to? Are you planning to use that little 'secret' you just saw as leverage to threaten Potter... for how long?"

His voice was quiet, yet it slid into Malfoy's ears like a venomous snake, making his whole body go cold. Malfoy could clearly feel the undisguised threat radiating from Silas, something even more terrifying than Professor Snape's anger! This time, Malfoy had kicked a titanium-alloy wall.

Silas grabbed Malfoy by the collar and effortlessly lifted the Slytherin boy, who was not much taller than himself, off the ground. Malfoy's feet dangled in the air as he kicked uselessly. Silas's eyes, usually lazy or teasing, were now as cold as the ice at the bottom of the Hogwarts lake, piercing straight into Malfoy's terrified pupils.

"Draco Malfoy," Silas said quietly, but with an undeniable pressure that reached Malfoy's ears clearly, "please forget everything you just saw in Hagrid's hut. Right now. Immediately. Do you understand?"

Malfoy was being choked enough that he could barely breathe, his face flushed bright red. Yet the arrogance and bullying habits he had developed over the years kept him from yielding easily. He screamed fiercely despite his fear.

"You... you're bullying me! This is outright bullying! I'll tell my father! Lucius Malfoy won't let you get away with this! He'll make you, you Mudblood—"

Bang!

Before he could finish the insulting word, Silas let go of his collar. Caught off guard, Malfoy crashed heavily back onto the ground, grimacing in pain.

Silas looked down at him, a mocking sneer on his face and undisguised contempt in his voice.

"Tell your father? Fine. Go ahead. But before that..."

He crouched down beside Malfoy and reminded him, one word at a time, in a voice only the two of them could hear:

"I haven't forgotten that a few weeks ago, in the library, Longbottom happened to walk past you—very unfortunately—and you cast the Leg-Locker Curse on him, making him fall stiff as a plank while everyone laughed at him. I think that was real bullying."

Silas's gaze was sharp as a blade. "What? Only Master Malfoy gets to bully people, and no one else gets to 'remind' you of anything? Does your family own Hogwarts?"

Malfoy was rendered speechless as Silas dragged up old grievances and shut him down with that icy gaze and merciless accusation. He had bullied Neville before, more than once. But he had never imagined someone would stand up for that cowardly Neville Longbottom, and in such a forceful way.

Looking into Silas's eyes, which seemed able to see through every one of his vile acts, and feeling the other boy's aura of complete indifference toward his family name, Malfoy felt genuine fear and helplessness for the first time. He knew that this damn Ravenclaw did not care for his "I'll tell my father" routine at all.

Silas stood up and dusted off his hands as though he had touched something filthy. He gave one final warning. "Remember what I said, Malfoy. Forget what you saw. If you dare say a single word..."

He did not finish, but the cold glint in his eyes was enough to make Malfoy shudder.

Silas ignored the pale-faced Malfoy, still slumped on the ground, and turned toward Hagrid's hut. He knew that for someone like Malfoy, a coward who bullied the weak and feared the strong, only someone more ruthless and more fearless could make him keep quiet. Today, he had succeeded.

Watching Draco Malfoy scramble away in a miserable state toward the castle, Silas's cold expression instantly vanished, returning to his usual slightly lazy demeanor. With a thought, the Sekern Red Belt wrapped around Malfoy's ankles turned into flecks of red light and dispersed into the air.

At the same time, Silas's hair, which had become as vividly red as heated iron from using powerful Vishanti Magic, rapidly cooled and faded before the naked eye, returning to its original light brown, as though that sharp, intimidating presence had never existed.

He turned around but did not immediately return to Hagrid's hut. Instead, he reached into the inner pocket of his wizard robe, which seemed capable of holding countless objects, and took out a thumb-sized crystal vial. Inside, several drops of dark-red liquid swayed, seemingly still carrying a trace of warmth.

Silas held the vial up to the light and inspected it carefully. A sly, satisfied smile curled over his lips as he murmured to himself:

"Baby dragon blood... hehehe, Norwegian Ridgeback, freshly hatched... This is rare material indeed! Its magical activity is extremely high, and it contains the vitality of new life. Whether it's used as a catalyst for advanced potions or for drawing special magic circles, it's top-quality stuff!"

Clearly, back in Hagrid's hut, while everyone's attention had been focused on the newborn Norbert, Silas had quietly collected these few precious drops of dragon blood without anyone noticing. For someone skilled in Potions and fascinated by researching—or rather, collecting—all kinds of magical materials, how could he possibly miss an opportunity like this?

He carefully put the vial away, patted his robes, and finally strolled toward Hagrid's hut with the satisfied air of someone who had made a fine haul, as though the cold-eyed "enforcer" who had dragged someone around with red bands had only been an illusion.

For Silas Cyril, threatening Malfoy had merely been a convenient way to deal with a minor nuisance. Collecting rare magical materials was the more valuable "serious business."

Inside Hagrid's hut, the newborn Norwegian Ridgeback, Norbert, immediately became the apple of Hagrid's eye. Every half hour, Hagrid carefully scooped up a little amber-colored whiskey with an enormous spoon and brought it to Norbert's mouth, watching the baby dragon greedily lick it up. Norbert seemed to love the strong drink. Every time he finished, he let out an alcohol-scented burp and spat a few sparks.

Silas looked at the familiar bottle in Hagrid's hand. It was the fine Bourbon Whiskey he had given Hagrid at the start of term. The corner of his mouth twitched, and he could not help asking:

"Hagrid... the liquor you're feeding it wouldn't happen to be the bottle I gave you at the beginning of term, would it?"

Hagrid gave an honest smile and patted the bottle. "Oh, yeah! This one! It tastes great, and Norbert loves it! Thanks again, Silas!"

Silas's face instantly darkened. He looked pained as he watched that expensive liquor, the kind even his father Anthony could not bear to drink too much of, being used as a baby dragon's "appetizer." He muttered softly:

"Such good liquor... being fed to a dragon... If my dad found out, he'd be heartbroken to death..."

Hermione, standing nearby, heard his complaint and could not help rolling her eyes. She lightly jabbed him with her elbow and reminded him in a low voice, "What are you upset about? It was a gift, so it belongs to someone else now. Besides, you're only a first-year and you can't drink anyway. No matter how good the liquor is, isn't it just as useless to you as plain water?"

Silas froze for a moment and blinked. Then realization dawned on him, and he slapped his forehead. "Right! That makes sense! I can't drink it anyway, so what I don't see can't bother me."

He immediately put that small pang of regret out of his mind and continued watching with interest as Hagrid clumsily cared for the rapidly growing Norbert.

Two weeks later, Norbert had grown as large as a small hunting dog. His temper was becoming increasingly violent, and the flames he breathed had begun to cause real damage. He had even nearly set Hagrid's beard on fire. Hagrid's hut had become a complete mess, and Fang was too frightened to come near.

Hermione finally could not stand it any longer. With a serious expression, she went to find Silas.

"We can't let this continue!" Hermione said firmly. "Norbert is growing too fast, and Hagrid can't control him at all! If this keeps up, not only will Hagrid be in danger, but if the school finds out, Hagrid will definitely be expelled, and Norbert will be put down!"

Hermione continued, "We've already contacted Ron's brother Charlie by owl! He studies dragons in Romania! He agreed to help and will send his colleagues to the top of the tallest Astronomy Tower at midnight next Saturday to take Norbert away!"

The plan was risky, but it seemed to be the only solution available.

After hearing them out, Silas nodded decisively without the slightest hesitation. "All right, let's do it. Get him out of here quickly. It'll be good for both Hagrid and Norbert, and we won't have to worry about things getting worse."

He had long felt that Hagrid raising a dragon was unreliable. Now that professional dragon handlers could take over, it was the best possible outcome. As for any trouble they might encounter while transporting the dragon? In Silas's eyes, opening a portal directly to the top of the tower was no problem at all. He only hoped they could get rid of this hot potato as soon as possible and give Hagrid some peace and quiet.