A few days later, Frick's reply arrived.
The letter stated that the bones Morris sent were most likely the leg bones of some kind of fire-breathing dragon.
Unfortunately, due to improper preservation and its great age, the bone has lost its original vitality.
Even so, Morris decided to keep it.
He planned to sneak into the Forbidden Forest again when he had some free time; perhaps he could find even more.
If one has been found, then there may be a second, a third, or even a complete skeleton.
Ideally, it could eventually be transformed into an undead creature; even if it can't, it's still a decent decorative item.
Imagine, if someone comes to visit his home, he can casually tell the person across the street—
"Oh, it's just the skeleton of a thousand-year-old fire dragon. I pieced it together piece by piece from the forest when I was studying at Hogwarts."
Then, he can calmly enjoy the shocked expression on the other person's face and satisfy his own vanity.
So, over the next period of time, Morris ventured into the Forbidden Forest several more times and indeed found more bone fragments.
They even pieced together a nearly complete right hind leg—missing only two toes.
This progress greatly encouraged him.
Entering the Forbidden Forest so frequently was clearly not without risk, and the Centaur seemed to have sensed something was amiss. Starting one night, they increased their nighttime patrols, and their routes became increasingly unpredictable.
Fortunately, thanks to Morris Skeleton Unicorn, the enemy had no way to catch him, not even getting a whiff of his exhaust fumes.
However, Morris decided to temporarily reduce the number of times he entered the Forbidden Forest.
Assessing the situation and acting accordingly is the best strategy.
Anyway, he's not in a hurry; he has plenty of time.
A Tuesday after the Easter holidays ended.
At noon, Morris was eating a creamy potato in the dining room when Harry and Hermione, along with Ron, came to find him.
"Help me, Morris, I know you're very good at Potions." Hermione spoke quickly and urgently.
"Speak slowly." Morris quickly swallowed the food in his mouth and looked at them. "What do you need my help with... Oh, I think I understand."
He noticed that one of Ron's hands was swollen to almost twice its normal size and had a slight greenish tinge.
Morris took out his wand and touched it gently.
"Ouch! Don't touch it!" Ron jerked his hand back, nearly flying in pain.
Harry asked worriedly, "Is there any Potions that can heal this hand?"
Have you tried Essence of Dittany?
"That didn't work," Ron said, grinning. "I think it might be poisoning."
Morris took a small bottle out of his pocket and handed it to him. "This is the simplest universal antidote, which I brewed myself. Try it."
Harry took it, unscrewed the cap, and placed it in Ron's normal hand. "Drink it."
Ron frowned, then immediately gulped down the clear liquid in one gulp with a bitter expression. He smacked his lips, "Uh... it tastes a bit like spoiled Pumpkin Juice with a touch of rust."
He looked at his hand expectantly, but the swelling hadn't subsided, and the stinging sensation was still intense.
It had no effect.
Morris didn't speak, but took another bottle of the same antidote from his pocket and handed it over.
Ron was taken aback. "Is the dosage insufficient?"
"No," Morris shook his head, "This stuff is for external use."
The air suddenly became quiet for a moment.
Ron's expression became incredibly interesting; he felt his stomach churn.
Hermione covered her forehead in exasperation. "Will there be any side effects if I drink it?"
Morris shrugged. "According to my tests, no."
He had drunk it too.
Harry quickly helped Ron administer the antidote correctly.
"The effect is not obvious." Morris carefully observed Ron's hand; the green tinge had only faded slightly. "It shouldn't be simple poisoning; there's still a trace of magic residue."
He asked curiously, "What bit you? A fully grown Acromantula?"
The three looked at each other, seemingly discussing something in silence.
Finally, Harry leaned close to Morris's ear and whispered, "It's a dragon."
Morris hadn't expected such an answer.
In his opinion, Ron was more likely to be bitten by Quirrell than by a dragon.
He asked in bewilderment, "Where did this fire dragon come from?"
"Keep your voice down... Hagrid got a dragon egg," Hermione explained. "He hatched it a while ago, and then Ron accidentally got bitten."
"So it was a young fire dragon." Morris shook his head with some regret.
Ron held up his injured hand. "Never mind how the fire dragon got here, Morris, what should I do?"
"If you use my antidote," Morris estimated, "It might take half a month for the swelling to go down. I'd recommend you go to Madam Pomfrey; she's the real expert."
"That's the only way," Ron sighed. "If things stay like this, I won't be able to study properly."
Hermione frowned. "I told you to start studying for finals early, Ron."
Ron pursed his lips, not replying to her. "I'm going to find Madam Pomfrey now. Don't worry about me. Please explain the situation to the professor in class later."
Harry nodded.
Harry and Hermione both breathed a sigh of relief after Ron left, dragging his injured hand.
At least it didn't turn out any worse.
Morris spoke up, "Could I go see that fire dragon? I'm very interested."
"I knew you'd say that," Harry smiled. "I'll ask Hagrid for you; the dragon is his."
Even a newly hatched dragon cub is enough to fascinate Morris.
After all, the opportunity to see a fire dragon in person is extremely rare.
Moreover... he had an additional idea that needed to be verified using a living fire dragon.
Two days later at noon, Morris followed Harry and Hermione to Hagrid's Hut.
Please come in.
Hagrid opened the door.
As had been explained beforehand, Hagrid was not surprised by Morris's arrival and was quite welcoming.
For this big guy, being able to show off his fire dragon to others is something to be happy about, provided that the other party doesn't reveal it.
When Morris entered Hagrid's house, he found the floor littered with brandy bottles and chicken feathers, making it impossible to find a place to step.
He immediately spotted the dark-colored baby dragon curled up in the corner, gnawing enthusiastically on a long piece of wood.
" Norbert just took my chair apart," Hagrid said happily. "Look at what a lively little fellow!"
Harry exclaimed, "It's twice the size of what we saw before!"
"Yes," Hagrid grinned, and continued, "I gave it lots of brandy to grow this big."
Morris approached the fire dragon cub Norbert.