Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone

Snape
?” 
“Yeah — yer not still on abou’ that, are yeh? Look, Snape helped 
protect
the Stone, he’s not about ter steal it.” 
Harry knew Ron and Hermione were thinking the same as he 
was. If Snape had been in on protecting the Stone, it must have 
been easy to find out how the other teachers had guarded it. He 
probably knew everything — except, it seemed, Quirrell’s spell and 
how to get past Fluffy. 
“You’re the only one who knows how to get past Fluffy, aren’t 
you, Hagrid?” said Harry anxiously. “And you wouldn’t tell any-
one, would you? Not even one of the teachers?” 
“Not a soul knows except me an’ Dumbledore,” said Hagrid 
proudly. 
“Well, that’s something,” Harry muttered to the others. “Ha-
grid, can we have a window open? I’m boiling.” 
“Can’t, Harry, sorry,” said Hagrid. Harry noticed him glance at 
the fire. Harry looked at it, too. 

---

NORBERT THE 
NORWEGIAN RIDGEBACK 
‘
233 
‘
“Hagrid — what’s 
that
?” 
But he already knew what it was. In the very heart of the fire, un-
derneath the kettle, was a huge, black egg. 
“Ah,” said Hagrid, fiddling nervously with his beard, “That’s — 
er . . .” 
“Where did you get it, Hagrid?” said Ron, crouching over 
the fire to get a closer look at the egg. “It must’ve cost you a for-
tune.” 
“Won it,” said Hagrid. “Las’ night. I was down in the village 
havin’ a few drinks an’ got into a game o’ cards with a stranger. 
Think he was quite glad ter get rid of it, ter be honest.” 
“But what are you going to do with it when it’s hatched?” said 
Hermione. 
“Well, I’ve bin doin’ some readin’,” said Hagrid, pulling a large 
book from under his pillow. “Got this outta the library — 
Dragon 
Breeding for Pleasure and Profit
— it’s a bit outta date, o’ course, but 
it’s all in here. Keep the egg in the fire, ’cause their mothers breathe 
on ’em, see, an’ when it hatches, feed it on a bucket o’ brandy 
mixed with chicken blood every half hour. An’ see here — how ter 
recognize diff’rent eggs — what I got there’s a Norwegian Ridge-
back. They’re rare, them.” 
He looked very pleased with himself, but Hermione didn’t. 
“Hagrid, you live in a 
wooden house,
” she said. 
But Hagrid wasn’t listening. He was humming merrily as he 
stoked the fire. 
So now they had something else to worry about: what might hap-
pen to Hagrid if anyone found out he was hiding an illegal dragon 
in his hut. 

---

CHAPTER FOURTEEN 
‘
234 
‘
“Wonder what it’s like to have a peaceful life,” Ron sighed, as 
evening after evening they struggled through all the extra home-
work they were getting. Hermione had now started making study 
schedules for Harry and Ron, too. It was driving them nuts. 
Then, one breakfast time, Hedwig brought Harry another note 
from Hagrid. He had written only two words: 
It’s hatching.
Ron wanted to skip Herbology and go straight down to the hut. 
Hermione wouldn’t hear of it. 
“Hermione, how many times in our lives are we going to see a 
dragon hatching?” 
“We’ve got lessons, we’ll get into trouble, and that’s nothing to 
what Hagrid’s going to be in when someone finds out what he’s do-
ing —” 
“Shut up!” Harry whispered. 
Malfoy was only a few feet away and he had stopped dead to lis-
ten. How much had he heard? Harry didn’t like the look on Mal-
foy’s face at all. 
Ron and Hermione argued all the way to Herbology and in the 
end, Hermione agreed to run down to Hagrid’s with the other two 
during morning break. When the bell sounded from the castle at 
the end of their lesson, the three of them dropped their trowels at 
once and hurried through the grounds to the edge of the forest. 
Hagrid greeted them, looking flushed and excited. 
“It’s nearly out.” He ushered them inside. 
The egg was lying on the table. There were deep cracks in it. Some-
thing was moving inside; a funny clicking noise was coming from it. 
They all drew their chairs up to the table and watched with 
bated breath. 

---

NORBERT THE 
NORWEGIAN RIDGEBACK 
‘
235 
‘
All at once there was a scraping noise and the egg split open. 
The baby dragon flopped onto the table. It wasn’t exactly pretty; 
Harry thought it looked like a crumpled, black umbrella. Its spiny 
wings were huge compared to its skinny jet body, it had a long 
snout with wide nostrils, the stubs of horns and bulging, orange 
eyes. 
It sneezed. A couple of sparks flew out of its snout. 
“Isn’t he