Hagrid finds a dragon egg

In fact, there was no shortage of people dressed as trolls in the hall right now.

The absolute violence Harry had displayed made the wizarding world once again recall the terror of giants rampaging, and giants and trolls had once again become the hottest topic in magical society.

The reason trolls were popular was that their tiny heads were just about the size of a human head, so you only had to bother changing the color of the head to cover the hair, and filling out the body was simple—just enlarge it directly, no need to keep proportions.

Not nearly as troublesome as playing a giant.

However, the moment the spotlight landed on "Flint,"

almost every student was left speechless.

The light magnified every detail—the granite-gray, mottled skin, legs as thick as broken tree stumps, calloused feet, a bald little head, trumpet-like little ears...

Especially that idiotic look of eating nose-picking, which perfectly captured the troll's essence.

"Perfect! That's the vibe!" "Even the snot is troll-gray!" the Augurey Fred and George jeered.

Professor McGonagall shot to her feet, about to say something, when she saw Dumbledore raise a hand to stop her.

His blue eyes sparkled with delight. "A real troll," he said, raising his scorecard. "10 points!"

Snape forgot all about bickering with Sirius, his black eyes darting wildly as he searched for the real Flint's whereabouts—Deduct points! I'll deduct points! Detention!

"9 points." Hagrid McGonagall pursed her lips and raised her scorecard with a trembling hand.

—This is a disaster!

Flint, at this point, actually chickened out.

The troll (which had somehow fallen into his hands with suspicious ease—Quirrell, carefully cracking the Replication Curse in the Lestrange Vault at Gringotts, sneezed) happened to have a face that looked just like his. After two consecutive grievances suppressed in his heart, it had initially given him courage.

But after the troll just snored away, refused to stir up trouble no matter what, and ate its own snot in front of everyone...

—Don't look at him like that! That's not me! Not me!

Flint's eyes were wide with despair as, under his horrified gaze, the troll knelt before Harry and stuck out its rear.

"No!"

Flint tore off his hood. "Don't kneel! Marcus Flint!"

"Mr. Flint, if he is you, then who are you?"

That cold, familiar tone was like a biting wind blowing down Flint's neck. He turned his head as if in a stop-motion animation. "Sn... Snape Professor~"

"1 point!" Snape raised his scorecard. "For using a real troll to impersonate yourself just to get a high score, disregarding everyone else's safety... and also, Slytherin loses 50 points!"

"Flint, you are our king!" "No, you are our god!" Fred and George were ecstatic, the pink wings on their backs flapping into blurs.

"Flint, our god!" x n

The students from the other three houses joined in.

They had all suffered under Slytherin for too long, and it didn't matter which house ended Slytherin's seven-year winning streak.

—Harry, you did it!

Professor McGonagall looked at Harry with extreme tenderness.

—What the hell? Why are you looking at me?

Harry was baffled, raised his scorecard, which showed a big "1."

After Flint and the troll, which obediently followed Hagrid back into the Forbidden Forest, disappeared, the Halloween costume ball hit a brief lull.

Until Dumbledore announced the final shortlist.

"Draco Malfoy, Hermione Granger, Nymphadora Tonks, Gemma Farley."

Not only were the winners about to be chosen, but the true climax of the ball—the dance itself—was also about to begin.

"Harry, please choose your number one."

[Savior Lord, please select a quest to accept.]

[[Pointy-Faced Attendant's Joy] [Bunny-Toothed Grand Scholar's Delight] [Thousand-Face Hidden Guard's Adoration] [Cold-Faced Palace Steward's Heartthrob]]

—I want all... pfft, I want everything except the first one!

[The Savior Lord's heart is vast enough to embrace a hundred rivers, but please note, the four quests conflict with each other. Please consider carefully.]

"A centaur, naturally I should choose the centaur," Harry replied, without a moment's hesitation in anyone's eyes.

The lights focused on Draco, Hermione, and Tonks went out.

Only Harry and Gemma were left illuminated.

[[Cold-Faced Palace Steward's Heartthrob] completed. Reward: 10 experience points, Silver Talent trait·1]

—Three Bronze, one Silver. Definitely the Silver.

Harry cast a regretful glance over Hermione and the other two, then turned it into joy as he met Gemma's eyes.

"Then I hereby declare the ball officially begins!"

"Please, Harry and his dance partner—our number one—start the first dance."

The other lights went out, and flickering bat-shaped lamps lit up, accompanied by Halloween-style heavy metal music.

Almost all the students had stepped onto the stage.

Only Hermione and Tonks stood with arms crossed, glaring coldly at Gemma.

No, there were also Ron and Draco.

They too looked like someone had stolen their first-place thunder.

"What are you looking at, Weasley! I at least got a nine, and you're a seven? Tsk."

"If I make it to the finals, Harry will definitely pick me!"

Two icy stares landed on the pair.

The quarreling duo shivered.

"I'm leaving right now, Granger/Hermione." "I'm still your cousin/We're still related."

They instinctively interlaced their fingers and walked onto the stage.

Then they tried to separate, but got squeezed together again.

On the other side.

"It's fine, she'll be gone next school year, and I'll still be here."

"It's fine, next year she'll be another year older, and I'll still be young."

Tonks and Hermione, who had both taken a jab at Gemma in unison, locked eyes again, sparks seeming to flash between them.

Meanwhile, Hagrid, who had sent the Troll back to the Forbidden Forest and was on his way to visit Aragog.

"Oh dear, where did this stone—"

Hagrid, nearly tripping, threw himself to the ground, and the beetle's tiny eyes pressed close to that "stone."

"An... egg! A Norwegian Ridgeback egg!"

He quickly and carefully scooped it up.

In the pitch-black Forbidden Forest, a faint gleam flickered across the dark, glossy shell.

The next day.

"A dragon egg! Hagrid, how did you get this! It's against the law—the Wizards' Council of 1709 officially passed the Ban on Dragon Keeping, everyone knows that!"

Under Hermione's astonished gaze, Ron, who had been sleeping in History of Magic class, accurately recited the year of the statute.

"Everyone?"

"It's common knowledge! Every young wizard has dreamed of raising a Fire Dragon in their back garden, but all you get are gnomes, Dirt Diggers, and a ghoul in my attic."

Ron made a miserable face.

"The scent of an Acromantula..." Harry narrowed his eyes.

The date for the meeting was set for this Friday; he hadn't expected Hagrid to come across another Norwegian Ridgeback egg—an egg with an unusually strong vitality? (Harry had never seen other dragon eggs.)

"I found it near Aragog's territory. Lucky it's still alive..." Hagrid suddenly looked around, then lowered his voice, "Not that I'm badmouthing Aragog, but they eat anything."

He eyed a crawling spider warily, as if it might scurry into the Forbidden Forest and report back to Aragog.

—What was that called?

—Out with the old, in with the new?

Harry's mouth twitched.

The dragon egg hadn't even hatched yet, and Hagrid was already playing favorites.