The Silent Bookstore Manager at Hogwarts

The hatching of the Norwegian Ridgeback went very smoothly, without any problems, as if someone was deliberately helping them conceal the matter. Hagrid even managed to keep his mouth shut; at least he learned to keep quiet and deal with any potentially tempting questions without saying a word.

"Shouldn't we give it a name?" Hermione asked, looking at the dragon egg, but no one answered her question.

Harry's hands moved rhythmically, and he now felt that, in a sense, hatching a dragon egg was really like forging a weapon, requiring rhythmic flames and temperatures to catalyze the material.

"Speaking of which, where did you see this? I've never heard of a dragon mother blowing hot air to speed up the hatching process when incubating her eggs?"

Ron scratched his head in confusion. He suddenly felt like he was the one who knew the least about magical creatures out of the five people present, even though he had an older brother who worked at the Dragon Sanctuary.

"Ron, even if you don't know the details, reasonably mimicking the dragon mother's living environment would definitely have a positive impact on hatching. Isn't that a simple and reasonable assumption?"

As Reed spoke, he still held a book in his hand that even Hermione had never seen before. In fact, Hermione had never figured out what book Reed was reading. She only knew that Reed lived as if there were 72 hours in a day and could accomplish a workload that she could not even imagine.

Harry ignored these things and slowly regulated his breathing. The Commandments of Scars had taught him the necessity and importance of regulating his breathing. Flames surrounded the slightly trembling dragon eggs, but they seemed to want to touch Harry more.

"As for the dragon's name... how about Norbert?"

Hagrid made this suggestion, and the others had no objections. The dragon egg belonged to Hagrid, and his opinion was the most important.

As for Harry, he didn't care about any of that. He felt he had found that familiar rhythm, and with that rhythm, the tiny life inside the dragon egg seemed to have reached some kind of consensus with him. Together they made the flames dance. At that moment, Red raised his wand and gently created a barrier to prevent the escaping heat and sparks from affecting the other students and Hagrid.

"In terms of talent in combat and [forging], Harry is truly in a class of his own..."

Reid made this assessment, but of course, he didn't include himself in this assessment when evaluating the matter.

The rules of the hammer and anvil, the Flame Script, and the recently learned Bell and Bronze gradually transformed from rigid knowledge into vivid skills that danced in Harry's mind. He even felt that the Norwegian Ridgeback Dragon inside the egg might have been summoned by the Lionsmith in some way. Although the Lionsmith's power could not be transmitted here, some of the rules of the domain were still transmitted through Harry's actions.

"Alright, that's about enough for today. If we stay too long, people will start to suspect something's wrong... Besides, Harry, we still have things to do, right?"

"Phew...yes, the weather's great today, perfect for it." Harry let out a sigh of relief. Ron and Hermione instinctively looked out the window, at the gloomy sky and thin mist. Hermione even almost blurted out, "What's so great about this weather?"

However, Hermione still didn't say it aloud. She had a strange feeling that the weather was indeed good for Red and Harry today, so good that it made Hermione a little scared.

[Thin Mist]: The moonlight is hazy, the lake water is dim, and countless secrets are buried. (Sexual aspect: February, February Revelation)

"The fog here isn't strong enough, so I can only summon so much power for you. But it should be enough to deal with our 'dear' Draco Malfoy."

Harry donned the Invisibility Cloak, and with the help of the sexual energy contained within the mist, he briefly became like a true, silent ghost. If this were in London, people might exclaim that the evil spirit of the serial killer from a hundred years ago had returned.

A light mist drifted inexplicably through the corridors of Hogwarts, but Malfoy didn't care, because he had caught Neville again.

"What's wrong, our dear crybaby, snotty-nosed wretch? Has our beloved savior abandoned us again?"

Malfoy emphasized the word "savior," unable to understand why Harry had refused his invitation, but he didn't really need to understand such things now.

"You..." Neville mustered his courage to say something, but he became somewhat discouraged when he saw the two henchmen beside Malfoy rubbing their hands together in a fighting spirit.

"Ha, it feels good to try to get close to the savior like a pathetic lapdog only to be kicked away, doesn't it? You pathetic idiot, do you really think that arrogant savior would care about a good-for-nothing like you who can't do anything?"

Neville gritted his teeth and spoke angrily, with a courage he himself hadn't expected.

"You must apologize to Harry for what you said. He's definitely not an arrogant person; he's my friend!!!"

Upon hearing this, Malfoy laughed, a very arrogant laugh. Then, as he raised his wand, intending to teach this Gryffindor good-for-nothing a lesson for daring to talk back, something whistled from behind him. He instinctively ducked, dodging the object.

The javelin-like staff flew straight past Malfoy's original spot, and just before it hit Neville, it transformed into a soft feather and floated onto Neville's face. The ticklish sensation made Neville sneeze.

The sound of the iron rod scraping against the stone slab was so jarring in Hogwarts. Malfoy turned around and saw Harry holding an iron rod. Harry looked at Malfoy silently, without saying a word, but his actions had already said it all.

"Harry!!!" Malfoy roared in surprise and anger. He didn't even know how Harry had appeared. However, Harry remained silent. He never showed his emotions to his enemies, and Malfoy was the enemy now.

Malfoy and his two henchmen Crabbe and Goyle simultaneously raised their wands and began chanting spells. However, Harry did not flinch; he simply raised his arm.

He raised the arm that bore the slight scar from the wound inflicted after defeating the troll.

Three seconds later, Malfoy looked at Harry with trembling hands as if he were looking at a human monster. The three curses that struck Harry's arm did not even cause Harry any inconvenience.

"Well... it's my turn." Harry waved his hand, gripped the iron rod tightly, and was going to teach Malfoy a lesson.