The commotion of Thursday had not yet faded before Friday arrived.
This day was exceptionally relaxed with no classes, yet many first-year students were frantically rushing through their homework and finishing their essays.
The backlog of History of Magic essays, Charms practice records, and Potion ingredient analyses from the past few days had everyone at their wits’ end.
In the early morning Great Hall, the long tables were laden with steaming breakfast.
Not long after Harry sat down at the Gryffindor table, a clear sound of flapping wings suddenly echoed from above the Great Hall.
A large barn owl, with a shiny, brand-new, and incredibly magnificent Nimbus 2000 tightly bound to its talons, flew straight toward Harry and landed steadily in front of him.
The entire hall fell silent instantly, as countless gazes shifted toward him in unison.
Harry was both surprised and delighted, gently cradling the legendary lightest and most expensive racing broom in his hands, his fingertips trembling slightly.
Ron stared with wide eyes from the side, exclaiming in wonder repeatedly.
At the staff table, Professor McGonagall looked up at Harry, her expression remaining serious, but she gave him a slight nod without saying a word or making any further movement; everything was understood without being spoken.
Over at the Slytherin table, Malfoy’s face turned sour and unsightly on the spot, as he muttered bitterly to Crabbe and Goyle, mocking Harry for receiving special treatment only because of his fame; his jealous and defiant look became the most comical interlude of the breakfast period.
At the other end of the Gryffindor table, Fred and George Weasley were snickering in a corner.
They had just slipped a “Screaming Leaping Candy” into Professor Snape’s coffee cup and were now pretending to nonchalantly munch on toast.
Moments later, a short, startled sound came from the staff table; Snape’s face instantly turned as black as a thundercloud, and the atmosphere in the Great Hall became subtle.
The twins’ pranks always came unexpectedly, serving as the most lively seasoning in the daily life of Hogwarts.
Baelon, Hermione, Michael, Terry, and Hannah were also quietly eating breakfast nearby, taking everything in.
All around them were classmates wailing in despair over their essays and homework, yet their small circle alone remained composed.
Hermione had listed all her assignments and was completing them one by one with such neat notes that they could serve as models.
Michael and Terry were scratching their heads over their History of Magic essays, occasionally leaning over to ask Baelon for advice.
Hannah was quiet and gentle, diligently writing her Herbology Class report and softly asking questions whenever she encountered something uncertain.
Only Baelon remained exceptionally relaxed from start to finish.
Essays that took others an hour or two to barely finish, he could write rapidly after just a moment’s thought, with clear logic, complete content, and distinct structure, handling even the most difficult discussion questions with ease.
Amidst the frantic sounds of people rushing their homework, he remained calm and self-possessed, finishing his tasks early and standing out remarkably.
The days moved forward in such a steady and busy manner.
The September wind gradually turned cool, the leaves outside the Castle were dyed gold and light red, the days grew shorter, and the evening clouds became softer.
Classes progressed one by one, essays were finished one after another, and training sessions were held one by one.
No one specifically counted the days.
But when everyone looked up again, October had quietly arrived.
October at Hogwarts was crisp and refreshing, but the clamor in the Great Hall had not diminished in the slightest.
Especially during meal intervals, various rumors spread like wildfire among the long tables.
Harry and Ron remained inseparable, the best of friends.
However, Hermione Granger had not yet truly integrated into their small circle.
She was smart, diligent, and a top student, but she was also too assertive, always loving to correct others’ mistakes and pointing this and that out; she would even immediately step forward to point it out when Ron mispronounced a spell or made a mistake in an essay.
Ron didn’t say it aloud, but he was deeply annoyed, often complaining quietly to Harry.
Privately, many students had even given Hermione a nickname—”Little McGonagall,” saying she was serious, fastidious, and meddlesome, much like the strict Professor McGonagall.
And these past few days, the most widely circulated rumor at Hogwarts wasn’t about Harry’s Quidditch, the difficult essays, or the Weasley twins’ latest prank, but a mysterious and tense one.
“Have you heard?
Someone saw a Golden Dragon land in the Forbidden Forest at night!”
“Is it real?
It’s not any kind of dragon recorded in the textbooks; it’s a species no one has ever seen!”
“It’s about the size of a horse, with a wingspan of about thirteen feet (around 4 meters)!”
“Its scales are golden all over, and it landed under an oak tree deep in the Forbidden Forest, shimmering!”
“I wonder where it came from!”
“I heard from the upperclassmen that Hagrid has been running to the Forbidden Forest very frequently lately…”
Chirping discussions drifted from one end of the dining table to the other.
Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff students huddled together to speculate in low voices, the Gryffindors’ eyes lit up as they listened, and over at the Slytherin side, some snorted in disdain but couldn’t help but prick up their ears.
Ron listened with an excited face and turned to Harry, saying, “A Golden Dragon never seen before?
That sounds cool enough!
I really want to sneak into the Forbidden Forest to take a look!”
These words happened to be overheard by Hermione nearby, who immediately frowned and lowered her voice to refute sternly, “Ron!
The Forbidden Forest is a restricted area, and even small dragons are very dangerous!
Can’t you stop always thinking about adventures!”
Ron’s expression stiffened, and he felt even more disgruntled; he curled his lip and stopped talking.
Harry awkwardly smoothed things over, and the scene became somewhat subtle for a moment.
Only Baelon’s small circle remained exceptionally calm.
Michael quietly gave Baelon a look, Terry lowered his head to pretend to eat with understanding, and Hannah took a light sip of pumpkin juice, a hint of realization hidden in her eyes.
Hermione glanced at Baelon indifferently, her eyes carrying a bit of “I knew it all along” certainty, yet she said nothing.
None of them pointed it out, but they all knew clearly—
That mysterious Golden Dragon in the Forbidden Forest was not some magical creature that had accidentally intruded, but something Baelon had brought from his hometown, a shared secret of their small team.
What reassured them even more was that the gamekeeper Hagrid already knew about this and, at Baelon’s request, was secretly helping to look after and cover for it.
Hagrid never asked much; he just silently ensured the Golden Dragon wasn’t discovered by outsiders, disturbed by the creatures of the Forbidden Forest, or noticed by the patrolling Professors.
But in Hagrid’s heart, another thought was hidden.
He had seen the elegance and mystery of that Golden Dragon, seen its golden wings stretched out in the night, and he was incredibly envious.
The thing he loved most in his life was magical creatures, and now that he had seen such a rare dragon with his own eyes, the desire in his heart could no longer be suppressed.
So not long ago, during a chance encounter at the Hog’s Head, Hagrid had secretly traded for a Dragon Egg behind everyone’s back.
He didn’t know what species it was, only that the eggshell was warm and the patterns were beautiful, and it was now lying quietly by the fireplace in his hut, waiting to hatch.
He told no one about this, not even Dumbledore was aware.
He was both envious of Baelon’s dragon and carefully guarding his own upcoming little dragon.
Baelon met his companions’ gazes and gave an extremely slight, almost invisible nod.
No words were needed; they already knew.
It was safe.
Everything was as usual.
And Hagrid’s own secret was also kept tightly under wraps by him.
He would still greet Harry warmly in the corridors, laugh and chat about Quidditch, and occasionally hand him a bag of his own baked Rock Cakes, his tone as natural as if nothing had happened.
Harry and Ron were completely unaware of this, still living their noisy daily lives of rushing homework and practicing Quidditch.
They didn’t know that the Golden Dragon hidden in the Forbidden Forest belonged to Baelon, nor did they know that by Hagrid’s fireplace, another little dragon was about to hatch.
Hagrid kept secrets from both sides and looked after both, guarding everything without a leak.
Baelon’s small team, in their unspoken understanding, guarded their dragon and their unique rapport.
Rumors in the Great Hall were still buzzing, the October wind grew colder, and the Castle’s fireplaces gradually brought warmth.
Beneath the calm of Hogwarts, the secrets of two dragons were quietly waiting for their moment.