Hagrid looked uneasy. "Harry, is there something wrong with this egg?"
"Maybe you're the one with a problem." Harry patted his thigh—it would have been his shoulder, but sitting down, that was all he could reach.
Hagrid recounted everything that had happened that night in detail.
He'd been drinking and asking around when the man came over and joined him in a game of cards. He lost about two Galleons, and when he ran out of money, he mysteriously produced a dragon egg. Hagrid had won it from him without a second thought.
He'd also talked about all sorts of Fantastic Beasts: Unicorns, Acromantulas, and that three-headed dog named Fluffy...
The man seemed to be a well-informed Fantastic Beasts enthusiast, too.
That seemed... like a perfectly normal topic of conversation?
"So what did you put in the Third Floor Corridor?" Harry asked suddenly. "Acromantulas or a three-headed dog?"
"It's Fluffy. He's very loyal..." Hagrid answered without thinking. Halfway through, he realized something was wrong and sprang to his feet, knocking his chair over. It crashed to the floor. "Harry, how did you know?"
"Dumbledore told me." Harry waved a hand, signaling for him to calm down.
Hagrid steadied the chair and sat back down. "Him? Why would he tell you that?"
"Dumbledore and I have an arrangement. That's not important." Harry looked at the dragon egg. "It seems that man approached you on purpose."
Hagrid finally caught on. His face went pale. "You mean he's trying to steal the Sorcerer's Stone?"
"It's probably the same person who tried to rob Gringotts last time," Ron added.
Hermione reached a conclusion. "So it was Professor Quirrell?"
"No, no, no." Hagrid shook his head like a rattle. "How can you make such accusations against a professor? Last time it was Professor Snape, and now it's Quirrell..."
Harry cut him off. "I confirmed it with Dumbledore, too."
Hagrid opened his mouth, but didn't know what to say.
He hadn't even known...
Why did Dumbledore tell Harry everything?!
"I think you should tell Dumbledore about this," Harry suggested sincerely.
Hagrid hesitated. "But... how am I supposed to explain the dragon egg?"
"Hagrid!" Hermione sounded agitated. "It's a dragon. It's manageable now, but once it hatches, it'll grow as big as your house in two months!"
"And it'll breathe fire and burn your house down," Ron added.
Hagrid looked at Harry with a wounded expression.
"I've seen a few Potions that need dragon eggs," Harry said, sounding quite interested. "Give it to me and I'll take care of it for you. I can give you twenty Galleons—thirty, even."
Hagrid was shocked. "No, it's a dragon—a living creature."
"It hasn't hatched yet." Harry considered the Potion recipes. "Dragon eggs are pretty rare."
Hagrid stood up again and pulled Harry, chair and all, a little farther away. "No, Harry. You're right. I have to explain everything honestly to Dumbledore."
"All right," Harry said regretfully. "But if Dumbledore comes up with a way for you to keep it, could you give me some dragon scales and dragon's blood?"
Hagrid hesitated. He looked into Harry's unreadable eyes, then gave a hesitant nod. "If I can keep it, I can give you a little."
"Just a little."
As long as he didn't turn the dragon egg into a Potion, Hagrid was willing to consider anything.
They stayed a while, but the heat became unbearable, so they turned to leave. On their way out, they were given another bag of Rock Cakes that had softened a little from the heat.
As soon as they stepped outside, Ron took a deep breath of the cool air. "I was about to suffocate in there."
"Wait, Harry. Didn't we come here to ask for ingredients?" Hermione had only taken a few steps when she remembered, stopped, and pointed it out.
Ron froze, then smacked his forehead. "Oh, no. Seeing the dragon egg made me forget."
"Hagrid has much more on his plate than I do now." Harry shook his head. "He really wants to keep that dragon."
"Then what do we do?" Hermione frowned. "We can only go steal them from Professor Snape..."
Harry interrupted her, speaking softly. "Hagrid said there were signs of Bicorn activity in the Forbidden Forest. I'm planning to take a look."
"No. The Forbidden Forest is too dangerous," Hermione said, dismissing the idea at once.
Harry shook his head. "It's still better than dealing with Professor Snape."
At the thought of Snape's greasy hair and bat-like figure, Ron shuddered. "I'd rather face a dragon than go up against Professor Snape."
Hermione opened her mouth, but the words caught in her throat and came out as a sigh. Honestly, she'd rather run into another Troll in the bathroom than antagonize Snape. At least in the bathroom, she knew Harry would come to save her.
"Don't worry. You know I'm very perceptive," Harry reassured her. "If I run into danger, I know how to get away, and I won't freeze up."
Hermione gritted her teeth, stamped her foot, and huffed.
Harry was wonderful in every way.
Except for that mouth of his...
Back in their dormitory, they went over the information on Bicorns again.
They were vicious Fantastic Beasts. As their name suggested, they had two horns—but not the symmetrical kind found on cows, sheep, or deer.
Instead, they had two straight horns like those of a Unicorn, except that a Unicorn's horn spiraled clockwise, while both of a Bicorn's spiraled counterclockwise.
They were fat, with horse-like bodies and cow hooves. They liked to eat leopards and cows, but their favorite food was a kind, loyal husband—such as Mr. Arthur Weasley.
Or, if Snape ever got married, perhaps he'd end up on the Bicorn's menu, too.
They didn't favor any particular habitat. Wherever the food was, that was where they went.
Their droppings usually had a bitter, foul smell—a common trait among carnivores.
That night, after Neville and the others had gone to bed, Harry put on the Invisibility Cloak and slipped out of the dormitory. He hadn't planned to bring Ron or Hermione, and neither of them asked to come along, even though Ron had spent all of dinner gazing at him with tender affection. He'd never looked at a chicken leg with that much enthusiasm.
Filch's footsteps were heavy.
Mrs. Norris—his cat—had a strong smell.
And no other professors were out patrolling.
Sneaking around during term was easier than Harry had expected.
He soon reached the Forbidden Forest and spotted Hagrid patrolling its edge with a lantern. He had to watch out for any reckless little wizards—or creatures sneaking out of the forest.
Fang seemed to sense something and huddled behind Hagrid. He didn't crawl out from between Hagrid's legs again until Harry had gone some distance away.
The dark forest, home to countless Fantastic Beasts, opened Harry's eyes to a whole new world.
He hadn't gone far when he spotted a group of sleeping Horklumps. They looked like mushrooms wearing pink hats and sporting bushy beards. They seemed like Fantastic Plants, but were classified as Fantastic Beasts.
In large groups, they could cause wizards some trouble.
Harry crept over and picked two. They were one of the ingredients used to brew Healing Potions.
He could still see signs of ordinary wild animals around the forest's edge: deer, bears, wolves...
But after he went a little deeper, all those ordinary creatures disappeared.
He saw some fresh tracks—hoofprints—but it was hard to tell whether they belonged to centaurs or Unicorns. The books he had access to didn't cover that.
He also saw a swarm of glowing blue insects. They were almost impossible to make out with the naked eye, but their magical aura was enormous.
They were Billywigs, 3X-rated Fantastic Beasts. If one stung you, you'd float uncontrollably in the air.
Harry saw plenty of other creatures, too.
Thestrals, Murtlaps...
But he never found the Bicorn he most wanted to see.
It was almost time for the curfew to end when Harry slipped back into the dormitory. He slept for less than two hours before waking as the room began to stir.
"Harry? You're awake?" Ron was the first to notice him moving.
Harry nodded.
Ron came over. "How did it go?"
"I didn't find one," Harry whispered. "No rush. We'll take our time."
Every weekend night, he went to the Forbidden Forest—and each time he came back with plenty of things: herbs, ingredients, and even some Unicorn Hair he'd once found.
But he'd made no progress with the Bicorns.
Hermione and Ron were worried about it, but soon they had other things on their minds.
January seemed to be no more than a post-holiday adjustment period for the first-years.
Every subject began moving forward at an astonishing pace.
In Transfiguration, they began learning how to transform objects into living creatures. They had to try turning a piece of wood into a mouse, which left most of the little wizards groaning in frustration.
Many of them couldn't even make the wood take the shape of a mouse.
Professor McGonagall was very strict.
After seeing how far Harry had progressed, she was especially displeased with how slowly the others were moving. With a wave of her hand, she assigned a seven-inch essay. Harry was the exception; he only had to write three inches.
The Little Lions began groaning again.
They could still copy Hermione's work—but copying one person's assignment wasn't nearly as satisfying as copying two.
Charms class also began focusing on casting spells precisely.
The little wizards finally understood why, during their first two lessons, Professor Flitwick had spent both of them teaching Magical Theory.
The material they had brushed aside had become their biggest stumbling block.
They had to practice using spells in different ways. For example, if they stood in front of two doors and cast Alohomora, they had to open only one without affecting the other.
Seamus was probably the best little wizard after Harry. Even Hermione couldn't match him. He managed to open just one door—though the other one exploded.
Snape's class became every little wizard's nightmare.
They stopped brewing Potions from ordinary herbal recipes and began working with magical ingredients. It was difficult: even the same ingredient could produce completely different magical effects.
The recipes on the blackboard couldn't guarantee a successful brew.
Even Harry made mistakes sometimes, giving Snape a chance to sneer at him.
Herbology became the class with the most mishaps.
Fantastic Plants were much harder to handle than Potions.
Professor Sprout had to work hard every lesson to free little wizards caught by Fantastic Plants—or award points to the little wizards who came to their rescue.
Before you continue