Brian had raised a chick during his student days, and had even written a detailed research report-from the first step, "taking the egg from beneath the hen's wing," to the last, "several notable characteristics of a rooster in heat." The process had been fascinating, but sadly, the ending had been bleak.
One sunny day, the fully grown Mr. Rooster had flown over the fence and been flattened by a passing bus. After shedding tears, Brian had firmly committed one vital safety precaution to memory: "Before climbing over the school wall, always check for passing vehicles."
Brian's affection for Mr. Rooster had been genuine. Back then, the first thing he did upon waking each day was check the egg for changes. When a tiny crack suddenly appeared in its shell, he had almost forgotten how to breathe-just like Hagrid now.
A crack suddenly rang out in the quiet basement. On the long table, carefully arranged to resemble a patch of wild grassland, several tiny holes suddenly appeared in the reddish-black eggshell. Light could barely enter them, but a moment later, those holes widened into a crack.
Everyone could see a little black life struggling to stretch its body inside.
The large half-giant's usually heavy breathing suddenly became completely inaudible. Professor Kettleburn's wooden hand trembled slightly, and his Adam's apple shifted back as he swallowed. Brian breathed out softly and discreetly felt his pocket. He had prepared a gift for Norbert-a whale made primarily of clay, with several legs that let it run all over the place.
He had specially commissioned this gift after careful consideration. Norbert was a Norwegian Ridgeback, a breed that hunted not only land mammals but aquatic creatures as well. According to an unsubstantiated rumor, a Norwegian Ridgeback had once snatched a young whale from the coast. That