Hogwarts' Golden Glory

Kane watched the interaction between the two, a hint of amusement flashing in his eyes.

He flicked his wand, and Draco's ebony chest suddenly floated up, steadily following behind them.

"Let's go," Kane said. "If we're any later, Hagrid might not even have a beard left."

Sunlight streamed through the arched windows of the corridor, casting the shadows of the three people onto the ancient stone wall—one with messy black hair, and the other with dazzling platinum gold.

Their figures walking towards Hagrid's cabin were strangely harmonious, like a scene that should have existed long ago.

Morning dew condensed into beads on the spider webs of the forbidden forest, and the sound of the three people's footsteps startled the hunchback guarding the tree in the bushes.

Draco adjusted his collar and suddenly spoke in an almost academic tone:

Do you understand the three most crucial stages of raising dragons?

Seeing that the two did not react, he continued.

"The incubation period, the fire-breathing period, and the scale hardening period—mistakes at each stage can be fatal."

Harry noticed that Draco's expression at that moment was exactly the same as Hermione's when she was explaining the spell.

"First comes the hatching." Draco bent down to avoid the low-hanging branches, though he could have avoided them without bending down.

"The shells of Norwegian Ridgeback dinosaur eggs require a constant temperature of 59°C, with an error margin of no more than 2 degrees." The first 72 hours after hatching are the most critical—"

Harry suddenly remembered something: "No wonder there was an oven in Hagrid's room that day; he usually only cooks with his big iron pot!"

"A typical half-baked approach."

Draco rolled his eyes, but his tone was unusually devoid of sarcasm. "Then the baby dragons are immediately fed volcanic ash mixed with unicorn fur after birth—this promotes the development of their digestive system and neutralizes stomach acid to prevent them from breathing fire prematurely."

Draco pulled a glowing diagram of a dragon's digestive system from his pocket.

"Speaking of the fire-breathing period—this is the most dangerous stage. When the young dragons are three months old, their fire-breathing glands suddenly develop, much like a human going through puberty."

Harry saw in the diagram that an organ resembling a gallbladder was pulsating and glowing.

Draco pointed seriously there: "The fire-breathing ability of Spinosaurus hatchlings develops relatively early, roughly between one and three months after birth, but the sphincter muscles that control the fire-breathing don't mature until six months. That's why..."

"Why does Norbert always accidentally burn Hagrid's beard?" Harry suddenly realized.

The sunlight gradually intensified, casting dappled shadows through the leaves at their feet.

Draco continued explaining as they walked: "The most difficult part is the hardening of the scales. When the young dragon begins to shed its scales, a healing potion must be prepared using water from the Finnish glacial lake..."

His voice suddenly stopped. "Merlin's beard!"

At the door of Hagrid's hut ahead, Norbert was happily tearing at a dragon skin apron that was still smoking.

What's terrifying is that half of Hagrid's newly grown beard has been burned black.

Even more frightening is that Norbert is now half a person tall.

Draco took a deep breath, his fingers gripping the handle of the ebony chest tightly. "Looks like we've come at just the right time."

His eyes gleamed with the sharp light of a professional dragon tamer. "Ready for your first practical lesson, Potter?"

When Hagrid looked up and saw the three men standing in front of his charred fence, he slammed the tin bucket he was holding onto his foot with a loud crash.

The dragon feed in the bucket (which smelled like rotten fish entrails mixed with sulfur) splattered all over his trousers, but he was completely unaware.

"Huh... Harry? And... the Malfoys...?"

Hagrid's voice suddenly rose three octaves, like a cat whose tail had been stepped on.

His massive body instinctively pulled Norber back into the room and blocked the doorway.

As a result, the wooden shelf behind him was overturned—more than a dozen empty Flaming Whiskey bottles rolled out with a clatter, each bottle mouth still covered with a suspicious green slime.

Norbert seized the opportunity to crawl between Hagrid's legs and gleefully sprayed a string of sparks at Draco's ebony chest.

Hagrid's face instantly turned a deep purplish-red, starting from his beard: "This...this is...uh..."

His eyes darted around frantically. "A large... um... lizard! Yes! A Hungarian wood bee lizard! A particularly docile species..."

Kane gracefully dodged the sparks from Norber's spray, his long golden hair swaying slightly in the heat: "Indeed, fire-breathing lizards are quite common."

He bent down and picked up a piece of shed scale that shimmered with a metallic sheen from the ground, "especially the kind of Norwegian Ridgeback Dragon that sheds scales."

Hagrid's large hands began to tremble, half a piece of dragon dung still stuck under his fingernails: "Let me explain... actually..."

He suddenly lunged towards the windowsill, grabbed a copy of "The Complete Guide to Domestic Pets," and frantically flipped through the pages. "Look! Page 394 says... uh... how to raise a fire-breathing Chihuahua!"

"We're not here to snitch, Hagrid," Harry sighed. "We're here to help you. Kane and his family have a dragon farm, and Draco is quite knowledgeable about dragons."

Throughout the journey, Draco's explanations completely won over Harry; he never expected that Draco would know so much about raising dragons.

Hearing this, Hagrid's heart, which had been in his throat, sank back down. "You scared me to death! I thought you...you came here to..."

Before Hagrid could finish speaking, Draco had already clicked open the gilded lock on the ebony box.

The moment the lid popped open, a complete set of silver equipment gleaming with a cold light automatically floated into the air.

It shimmered with the luster of intricate magical runes in the sunlight. Hagrid's gaping mouth could practically fit an entire dragon egg.

"This is......"

"Norwegian Spinosaurus Baby Taming Kit"

Draco tapped the top silver ring with his wand. "Fireproof Collar 3.0, with built-in temperature regulator Runeven, which can automatically absorb excess fire sac pressure."

The collar was so exquisite that it resembled a work of art rather than a practical tool—its surface was etched with fine runes, and its lining was a cushioning layer woven from unicorn mane.

When Norber curiously leaned in to sniff, the gem on the collar immediately sensed the dragon's breath and emitted a soft blue light.

"Merlin's beard!"

Hagrid trembled as he reached out to touch it, then withdrew his hand as if afraid of getting it dirty. "This...this is even better than the equipment from the Ministry of Magic's Dragon Training Division..."

"It needs to be even more advanced; these are all the latest models."

Kane continued, taking a crystal spray bottle from the box. "Fire Dragon Grass Essence Spray. Spray it in its nostrils three times a day to prevent respiratory burns."

He demonstrated by spraying the water into the air, and the fine mist immediately condensed into ice crystals and snowflakes, which Norbert happily chased after and ate.

Draco then produced a device that made Harry's eyes widen in astonishment—

"A fire-breathing training target." The platinum-haired boy tossed the silver disc into the open space, and the disc immediately unfolded into three circling metal birds. "It will mimic the trajectories of different birds of prey, helping the young dragons learn to control the angle of their flames."

Hagrid's expression at that moment was as if he had witnessed Merlin's resurrection.