Because of the news of the dragon hatching, the first Charms class in the afternoon didn't seem so interesting—even when Professor Flitwick started teaching them the new spell to conjure fire, Harry and Ron didn't pay much attention.
Cohen, on the other hand, already knew it, so he spent the class browsing his system shop, trying to find items that would make it easier to raise wild magical creatures.
But there didn't seem to be anything like a "succubus collar" that could make the creature obey him…
so Cohen could only try to use his charm.
After Charms class, they quickly packed their bags and rushed across the field to Hagrid's hut.
Hagrid excitedly welcomed them inside.
The temperature was higher than last time; Hagrid's enthusiasm was entirely focused on keeping the dragon egg warm. It was hard to imagine what a good life the dragon would have after hatching.
"If dragons have human flesh on their diet, I suspect Hagrid would feed himself to it without hesitation…" Harry whispered uneasily to Cohen.
"You should be glad the reserve food isn't ours," Cohen comforted him. "Hagrid has enough for the dragon for many days."
"It's almost out!"
Hagrid exclaimed, beaming, completely oblivious to their conversation.
The egg lay on the table, a deep crack running through its dark shell, from which came a series of clicking sounds, accompanied by the wriggling of the young dragon inside.
[Soul Strength: 20]
This dragon, barely hatched, already possessed an extremely resilient soul. Dragons were indeed formidable creatures—both physically and mentally.
However, it was still weaker than Cohen's, so Cohen won.
"Will it breathe fire as soon as it hatches?"
Harry swallowed, watching the sparks emerging from the crack.
The smell of sulfur began to emanate from the egg.
"I guessed it would—" Hagrid said uncertainly, "but—wait, it's pushing against the shell—shh…"
Another fine crack began to appear around the eggshell, as if a little creature were hammering it from the inside out.
Everyone held their breath, watching the egg intently—Cohen was facing the new fine crack.
Cohen suddenly knew what was about to happen.
"Crack—"
The eggshell broke open with an irregular, round opening, and a small, dark head peeked out—it was yawning with its mouth open for the first second after hatching, but when it opened its eyes after the yawn, the dragon's gaze met Cohen's.
Cohen saw fear in it—perhaps that was why it had suddenly frozen.
The air fell into an eerie stillness; not only Cohen and the dragon, but even Hagrid and Harry beside them were motionless.
"Plop—"
The little dragon silently withdrew its head from the shell, then stretched out a small claw from the hole and pried off the piece of debris that it had pushed open and was still stuck to the shell, resealing the opening. The
little dragon retracted a message.
"?"
Hagrid had never seen this situation in those books about raising dragons.
"Maybe it was because there were too many of us that it scared it," Cohen made up, "or maybe the little dragon needs a little help to hatch..."
As he spoke, Cohen reached out to help the little dragon hatch—keeping it inside would only waste time, and they had one last class in the afternoon; they had come to see the little dragon hatch during the break.
[Ding! Sin Value +10]
[Note: You don't even spare dragons, do you?]
As Cohen helped break open the eggshell, the baby dragon inside made a whimpering sound.
"Resist? Resisting is useless!"
Cohen sensed its resistance—but no matter how much it resisted, it couldn't give up its life!
The little dragon couldn't sense Cohen's kindness and could only desperately try to block the irregular hole with its body, attempting to stop Cohen from breaking the eggshell.
But it was no use; it was facing a magical hybrid Dementor.
"Watch out!"
Hagrid exclaimed when Cohen used "Crush" on the eggshell.
When the eggshell shattered into a pile, it could no longer hide.
Now the little dragon was completely exposed to the outside air.
It looked like a crumpled black umbrella, its spiky wings and dark, wrinkled wing membranes several times larger than its body. Horns grew on its head, its nostrils were white, and its orange-red eyes bulged outwards.
Even with the eggshell shattered into pieces, it tried to bury itself in the pile of fragments that had once sheltered it, its head tucked under its wings—
making it look rather pitiful and making Cohen seem evil.
"It's so beautiful…"
Hagrid said, his eyes filled with tears.
He reached out a hand and touched the little dragon's wing.
The dragon instinctively bit Hagrid—because it saw through the gap under its wing that the person touching it wasn't the horrible monster.
"Good heavens! It recognizes its mother!" Hagrid exclaimed, moved.
"I think it's just reacting," Cohen reasonably speculated.
"Would you like to touch it? It's so beautiful—and feels wonderful," Hagrid enthusiastically invited the group.
But Harry and the others saw a faint tooth mark on Hagrid's finger and immediately stood up, taking a step back in unison.
If even Hagrid could be bitten, a bite from this thing might mean amputation…
But Cohen didn't back down—he reached out his hand to the little dragon.
Harry and the others gave Cohen respectful looks.
Unlike Hagrid, when Cohen touched the little dragon's back, although it trembled violently, it didn't turn and bite Cohen.
The moment Cohen touched it, the little dragon trembled violently, almost like an ostrich trying to bury its head in the wooden table under its wings.
But after Cohen touched it several times, it seemed surprised to find itself alive—the terrifying monster hadn't harmed it.
"It doesn't feel that good..."
Cohen withdrew his hand; the dragon's body was cold and hard, like touching a piece of jagged metal.
"But it seems quite obedient so far."
"It might even think of you as its mother!" Hagrid exclaimed excitedly. "You were the first thing it saw!"
"Then it would have five mothers," Ron pointed out the problem. "We're all here, Hagrid—but none of us look like dragons."
"I've decided to call him Norbert!" Hagrid selectively ignored Ron's comment. "From a book—the little Norwegian Ridgeback in that book, Dragons for Entertainment and Profit, is named Norbert."
After confirming that Cohen wouldn't harm it, Norbert finally folded the wings covering its head—it faced Cohen, its head almost touching the table, its back and tail held high and wiggling as if trying to please him.
"It looks a bit like…" Harry said somewhat strangely.
"A dog," Cohen added.
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(End of Chapter)