Chapter 41
"Then the little one was sent to the English Magical Creature Park," Hagrid continued, picking up where Ron left off. His voice carried an unusual note of melancholy. "As the only dragon there, everyone loved him. He lived out the rest of his days in the park until he passed away."
Harry and Hermione turned to look at Hagrid. He scratched the back of his head, rose from his seat, and began rummaging through the cluttered pile of belongings in the corner of his hut.
After a moment he pulled out an old, slightly faded photograph and handed it to the others.
"I've been to that park myself," Hagrid said quietly. "I even got my picture taken with Norbert. It was a long time ago, though… I'd almost forgotten."
His beetle-black eyes glistened. Hearing Ron's story had struck a chord deep inside him—he recognized himself in the mother Swamp Green Dragon, willing to give everything to protect the ones he loved.
Harry and Hermione took the photograph; Gray and Ron leaned in to look as well.
The picture had been taken perhaps thirty years earlier. The Hagrid in the photo was noticeably younger—his beard less wild and bushy, his hair a little less tangled.
Behind him stretched an enclosure fenced with iron bars, forming a sort of garden. Lying sprawled on the ground was a dragon almost as large as Hagrid himself, eyes half-closed in what looked like permanent drowsiness.
Norbert's body was practically spherical. His wings, compared to the rest of him, seemed almost comically small—especially considering that a dragon's wingspan is usually twice the length of its body.
His head was nearly half the size of his torso, giving the overall impression of one giant ball perched atop an even larger one.
Compared to a typical dragon, he looked less like a fearsome creature and more like an enormous, hairless cat.
Gray stared at the photograph in genuine surprise.
He had read about Norbert in A Guide to Dragon Keeping. The dragon was presented there as a classic cautionary tale: a warning against spoiling a pet so thoroughly that it lost all its natural instincts and wild nature.
But Gray had never imagined Norbert had grown this enormous. Adult Swamp Green Dragons from the East River flats were supposed to reach roughly the size of a large dog—small for dragonkind. Yet Norbert had ballooned to the proportions of a large dragon breed. It was nothing short of astonishing.
"Ron," Harry asked, "where did you even hear the story of Norbert?"
Ron shrugged. "It's in one of those old wizarding fairy-tale collections. Mum used to read it to us when we were little. She'd always use Norbert as an example—'If you don't get up and do your chores, you'll end up like Norbert, too fat and lazy to catch so much as a rat.'"
Hermione nodded in understanding. She turned to Hagrid.
"Hagrid, you heard the story. Do you really want to turn Norma into another Norbert? A dragon who ends up as nothing more than a zoo exhibit?"
Hagrid looked down at Norma. She bared her teeth at him and exhaled several cheerful bursts of flame that danced like sparklers.
"But… Norbert was happy in the end, wasn't he?" Hagrid said, struggling. "People loved him. He never had to hunt. He never had to worry about danger."
Hermione snatched the photograph from Ron's hand and pointed at the dragon in the picture.
"Look at him, Hagrid. Does that still look like a dragon to you? Does that look like a life he would have chosen?"
In the photograph, Norbert lay flat on the ground. He no longer had the strength to stand. His own immense weight had crushed the life out of him. Even the rescue association had been unable to help; they could only send him to the park for lifelong care.
He had never run. Never flown. Never felt the free wind on his face or seen the wide sky above him.
His body had become his prison. His mind and spirit had never known freedom. His mother's love had built walls around his thoughts, keeping him trapped inside.
That dark, damp nest had confined him for his entire life. What they eventually rescued was not a dragon—but a dragon-shaped doll named Norbert.
Hagrid opened his mouth to protest that he would do better—that he would let Norma fly in the Forbidden Forest, let her run free—but the words died on his lips as understanding sank in.
If he kept her here, the Forbidden Forest would simply become a second nest. Another cage built from love.
Norma belonged to the open sky. She could have so much more—if only he would let her go.
"I understand," Hagrid said thickly, covering his face with both huge hands.
Hermione let out a quiet breath of relief. Honestly, hearing Ron tell the story of Norbert had only strengthened her resolve. Norma did not belong here. Neither Hagrid's hut nor the Forbidden Forest could ever be her true sky.
"But where do we send her?" Harry asked suddenly. "We can't just release her into the wild somewhere random."
"Hey—Charlie!" Ron exclaimed, suddenly brightening. "I mean, Romania. There are loads of dragons there. It'd be perfect for her."
"I think that's a good idea," Hermione agreed. She turned to Gray.
"Let's write a letter first and ask," Gray said. Motes of light appeared in the air before him as he nodded in agreement.
He looked down at Norma. She gazed back with wide, round pupils, tilting her head in innocent curiosity as the humans chattered around her.
She had no idea what was being decided for her future.
Gray reached out and scratched gently beneath her neck. A low, rumbling purr rose from her throat; her eyes narrowed in contentment.
Charlie's reply arrived quickly—by the following night they had their answer.
Dear Ron, Thank you so much for writing. I'd be delighted to take in the Norwegian Ridgeback—Norma, right? That's a lovely name, especially if she turns out to be a girl.
We've got a small group of Norwegian Ridgebacks living here in Romania, along with plenty of other dragon species. We can help her integrate into one of the clans. It shouldn't be a problem at all—she'll find real friends and family here. Who knows, she might even become queen of her own clan one day.
In a few days I'll have some friends visiting. If it's convenient, could you bring Norma up to the highest tower next Friday evening? They can meet you there and bring her straight to me.
There is one condition, though: she'll need to be strong enough to survive the long journey. Honestly, I'm a bit worried about that. Dragons hatched outside the nest without a mother's fire-breath often don't develop properly—many don't survive at all. Please make sure she's in good enough condition first.
If she's not ready, we can wait for the next opportunity. Norma comes first. Write back as soon as you can.
Love, Charlie
Harry and Ron exchanged glances. Remembering the fresh bite marks and scratches Norma had left all over Hagrid, they both felt reasonably confident she could handle the trip.
They might even need to figure out how to keep her calm during the journey so she didn't accidentally injure her escorts.
Hermione read the letter and felt a weight lift from her shoulders. She had been worried for weeks that Norma would be discovered and that Gray would be blamed—possibly even expelled.
At last, it seemed, everything was falling into place.
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