The evening was cool, the castle corridors hushed with the after-dinner lull. Students were trickling back to their common rooms, voices drifting like murmurs in the dark, but Oliver was hardly paying attention. He noticed, instead, the enormous form of Hagrid lurking near the doors, wringing his hands together as though waiting for him. The half-giant's face was anxious, eyes darting back and forth, and Oliver could feel in his bones that something unusual was about to be shared.
"Oliver," Hagrid said, lowering his voice in a way that was almost comical given his booming tone, "could I… er… have a word with yeh? Just us."
Nyx, perched on Oliver's shoulder, gave a soft chirp, tilting her tiny chick head at Hagrid as if appraising his mood. Oliver frowned but nodded, his curiosity spiking.
"Course," Oliver replied. "Lead the way."
They slipped out into the grounds, the night sky crisp and glittering overhead. The faint gleam of the half-moon threw silver across the grass, and the steady crunch of Hagrid's boots was the only sound. Oliver matched his stride easily, though his mind buzzed with questions. Hagrid had never looked this uneasy.
When they reached the gamekeeper's hut, Hagrid ushered him inside quickly, shutting the door tight and even pulling the curtains over the windows. Fang, the massive boarhound, thumped his tail lazily against the floor but didn't bother to rise.
Oliver settled onto the familiar wooden chair by the fire, Nyx hopping down onto the table to bask in the warmth. Hagrid busied himself with the kettle, but Oliver wasn't fooled—his hands were shaking.
Finally, Hagrid turned around, clutching a large bundle wrapped in cloth. He set it gently on the table with surprising care, as though it were fragile glass.
"Oliver," Hagrid began, his voice dropping almost to a whisper, "I've got somethin' to show yeh. But yeh've got to promise—absolutely promise—yeh won't breathe a word of this to no one unless I say so."
Oliver leaned forward, his eyes fixed on the mysterious bundle. "I promise," he said without hesitation.
With a dramatic tug, Hagrid pulled back the cloth.
Nestled inside was a large, mottled egg, its surface scaled like stone but pulsing faintly with warmth. It shimmered faintly in the firelight, runes of nature pressed into its shell by time itself.
Oliver gasped, his breath catching in his throat. "Is that—?!"
"A dragon egg," Hagrid said proudly, though still in that half-whisper, as if the walls themselves might carry the secret. His eyes gleamed with a dangerous sort of delight. "Won it meself. Card game. Fella didn't know what he had. Well—he knew it was rare, but not rare enough, clearly, 'cause he lost it."
Oliver's hands trembled as he reached forward, not daring to touch but desperate to. His heart thudded in his chest. A dragon. A real dragon. Not a line in a book or a whispered story, but an actual egg sitting before him.
"I've always…" Oliver breathed, unable to stop the grin spreading across his face, "I've always wanted to see one. To—Merlin, Hagrid, this is incredible!"
Nyx hopped closer, pecking curiously at the shell, before letting out a trill that almost sounded like approval.
But then Oliver froze. The grin faltered, replaced by practicality, the part of him that had been trained by the Flamels to think past the initial wonder. "Hagrid," he said slowly, "this… this can't stay in your hut. A dragon—when it hatches—it'll need space. Heat. Containment. And…" He swallowed. "It'll be dangerous."
Hagrid's broad smile dimmed, and for the first time, Oliver saw the concern hiding behind the man's joy. "Aye," he admitted. "Been thinkin' the same. But I couldn't… I couldn't just let it go, Oliver. Yeh understand? Dragons're near impossible ter come by. The chance of raisin' one—"
"I get it," Oliver interrupted gently, his voice steady even though his heart was still racing. "I do. But maybe… maybe it doesn't have to be impossible." He leaned forward, eyes gleaming with an idea. "What if we put it in my suitcase?"
Hagrid blinked, his brow furrowing. "Yer suitcase?"
Oliver nodded eagerly. "The world inside it. There's space. Containment. I can control the environment, add fireproofing charms, reinforce protections. It would be safer than here, at least until we figure something else out."
Nyx chirped loudly, flapping her wings as if seconding the plan.
But Hagrid's hesitation was clear. He rubbed his beard, frowning deeply. "There's unicorns in there, Oliver. And centaurs. Whole habitats ye've been buildin'. One dragon could ruin all of it. Yeh'd be puttin' everythin' at risk."
Oliver faltered, then straightened his shoulders. "Not if we do it right. Not if we ask for help."
There was a silence, the crackle of the fire filling it, before Hagrid finally sighed. "Aye. Then we'll ask. We'll go ter Nick an' Penny. Best ter have their say before this goes any further."
They went together to the Flamels. Nick and Penny were in the library, deep in discussion over an ancient tome, when Oliver and Hagrid burst in with the egg carefully bundled.
The couple's reaction was immediate. Penny's hand flew to her mouth, her sharp eyes wide with alarm. Nick set down his quill so forcefully it snapped.
"A dragon egg?" Nicholas said, his tone sharp, the calmness in his voice cracking under the weight of disbelief. "Hagrid, do you realize what you've brought here? What you've let Oliver near?"
"It's not his fault," Oliver jumped in quickly. "He won it. He—he didn't know where else to turn. And I—" he swallowed, forcing the words out, "—I offered the suitcase."
"The suitcase?!" Penny's voice was incredulous. "Oliver, do you have any idea what hatching a dragon means? It will be wild, unpredictable, lethal. It could undo all of the work you've put into your sanctuary."
Oliver's face flushed, but he didn't back down. "Please," he said, his voice fierce with determination. "Please, just listen. This… this is something I've always dreamed of. I want to see it hatch. I want to understand it. I promise, I won't be reckless—I'll take every precaution, I'll let you enchant the area, bind it, lock it down—whatever you want. But don't make me walk away from this."
Nick and Penny exchanged a long look, their expressions torn. Nyx, sensing Oliver's desperation, trilled again, hopping into his lap as though casting her own vote.
Nicholas exhaled heavily, rubbing his temples. "You're asking us to sanction something that is not just dangerous but illegal."
"Illegal doesn't mean impossible," Oliver shot back, and his boldness surprised even him. He held their gazes, unflinching. "I've been careful with everything else. I'll be careful with this. Please."
Another silence stretched between them. Finally, Penny's features softened, just slightly. She leaned forward, resting her hands on the table. "If we allow this… it must be under our strictest supervision. The egg will stay in a warded enclosure within the suitcase. Nicholas and I will cast flame-dampening charms, sound barriers, reinforcement runes. If the hatchling shows signs of aggression—"
"—then we'll make other arrangements," Oliver finished quickly, nodding so fast his hair flopped into his face. His grin was back now, irrepressible, wide and childlike in its joy. "Thank you. Thank you!"
Nyx chirped in delight, flapping her tiny wings and settling onto the egg as if claiming it too.
Hagrid beamed, relief flooding his features. "Knew yeh'd see it, Oliver. Knew yeh'd get it."
But when Oliver and Hagrid left the library, chatting excitedly about preparations, the Flamels lingered behind.
Penny sighed, leaning into Nicholas. "I couldn't crush him. Not when he looked so happy."
"I know," Nicholas murmured, though his face was grim. "But this… this cannot last. He cannot keep a dragon, Penny. Not truly. It will grow, it will burn, and it will destroy. We must… temper his excitement. Curb it."
Penny nodded. "Then we show him. We take him to a sanctuary. Let him see the truth with his own eyes."
Nicholas closed the tome with a finality that echoed in the silent room. "Yes. If a dragon is what he wants, then he must also see what a dragon is."
Oliver, of course, knew none of this. He and Hagrid were already back in the hut, crouched over the egg in the firelight. The shell pulsed faintly with warmth, and Oliver could swear he felt the faintest tremor beneath his fingertips.
His heart thudded wildly. A dragon. His dragon.
And just for a moment, under the crackle of the flames and Nyx's soft humming song, Oliver felt like he was standing on the edge of something vast, terrifying, and wonderful.
The egg sat in its cradle of flame, the firelight flickering across its scaled surface like restless shadows. Oliver leaned closer, his chin resting on his hands, eyes wide with wonder. Every faint vibration that rippled through the shell sent another spark of anticipation through his chest. Hagrid sat across from him, his massive form hunched, watching the egg with the awe of a child in a giant's body.
For a long moment, neither of them spoke. The fire crackled. Fang snored softly in the corner. And then, Nyx shifted.
The tiny phoenix chick, who had been perched protectively on Oliver's shoulder, hopped down onto the table, her bright sky-blue eyes fixed firmly on the egg. She tilted her head, studying it with that uncanny intelligence that always made Oliver's breath hitch. Then, with a flutter of her wings, she let out a low, melodic hum.
It was the kind of sound that seemed to vibrate in the very air, a tone that wasn't just heard but felt. The flames in the fireplace danced higher, as though stirred by the music of her cry. And before Oliver or Hagrid could so much as blink, Nyx opened her tiny beak and released a burst of her starlight fire.
It was unlike any ordinary flame. Dark blue, shot through with shimmering motes of silver, it cascaded down onto the logs with an almost liquid grace, fusing into the existing fire. The whole hearth seemed to transform, no longer an ordinary blaze but a miniature galaxy contained in a hearth, stars winking in and out, casting radiant beams that painted the walls in cosmic hues.
Oliver gasped, clutching the table as the sudden brilliance reflected in his eyes. The egg itself pulsed brighter, as though stirred awake by the infusion. Tiny runes—natural veins in the shell, invisible before—began to glow faintly, lines of soft silver-white spreading across its surface like constellations being drawn.
Hagrid's mouth fell open. "Merlin's beard…" he whispered, his usually booming voice subdued into reverence. "She's… feedin' it."
Oliver's throat felt tight with awe. He reached out carefully, laying his palm just above the shimmering fire where the egg nestled. The heat was no longer ordinary warmth; it was richer, deeper, infused with life itself. He could feel it—not just temperature, but magic thrumming, beating like a second heart in the room.
"Nyx…" Oliver breathed, his voice trembling. "She's giving it more than fire. She's giving it… her fire."
The little phoenix trilled in confirmation, her song weaving through the flames, wrapping the egg in sound and starlight both. She circled it once, wings glowing faintly as sparks fell like drifting stars, before settling down beside the egg. Carefully, she pressed her tiny body against its shell, as though lending her warmth, her essence, her bond to the creature inside.
The egg vibrated more strongly now, a faint hum echoing through the wood of the table itself.
Oliver's eyes brimmed with joy. "She's—she's blessing it. She's making sure it hatches strong."
Hagrid swiped at his eyes roughly with the back of his hand, pretending it was just the fire's smoke. "I've seen a lot o' beasts in me time," he muttered, voice thick, "but never… never this. Yeh've got somethin' rare here, Oliver. Somethin' the world's never seen."
Oliver reached out slowly, resting his fingers gently against the egg. The glow intensified for just a second, a flare of blue-white light sparking against his skin before fading into a steady pulse. He swallowed hard. "Then we'll do it right. We'll raise it safe. For it. For everyone else. Nyx believes in it—and so do I."
Nyx gave another soft chirp, her little body glowing faintly, before tucking her head beneath her wing, still pressed close to the egg. The hearth-fire steadied, galaxy flames curling protectively around them, and in that moment Oliver felt it: the start of something larger than even his wildest imaginings.
A dragon, touched by starlight.
And it would be his responsibility.
The chamber stayed hushed for a long time, the only sound the crackling of Nyx's celestial flames as they burned with quiet intensity. Oliver couldn't look away from the egg. It seemed alive now in a way it hadn't before—breathing in time with Nyx's hums, pulsing with threads of starlight etched along its shell.
Hagrid cleared his throat, his voice unusually careful. "Oliver, lad… it ain't just a dragon anymore. Whatever's in there now—it's gonna be touched by yer phoenix."
Oliver nodded, though his stomach twisted with both pride and worry. His fingers lingered over the shell, tracing one of the glowing veins. "Then I'll take care of it," he said softly. "Like Nyx chose me, maybe this dragon needs me too."
Nyx chirped once, sharp and certain, as if agreeing.
The door creaked open then, letting in a waft of cold night air. Penny and Nick entered, the glow of the hearth immediately catching their eyes. Penny gasped softly, clutching Nick's arm as her gaze fell on the egg and the galaxy-fire surrounding it.
"Oh, sweet heavens…" she whispered. "Nicholas. Look."
Nick's lined face softened into wonder. He stepped closer, his keen alchemist's eyes narrowing as he studied the shell, the fire, and Nyx herself curled against the egg. "Starlight fire," he murmured. "I've only ever heard of phoenix flame mingling with another creature's beginning. I never thought I'd live to see it."
Oliver looked up at them quickly, searching for their reaction. "She—she just did it. I didn't tell her to. She wanted to help."
Penny's expression trembled between awe and apprehension. "Darling, she may have changed this creature forever. Do you understand what that means?"
"I do," Oliver said firmly, surprising even himself with the steadiness of his voice. "It means it will never be like other dragons. But that doesn't scare me. It means it's mine to protect. Ours."
For a long moment, Penny only studied him, the firelight catching the tears brimming in her eyes. Finally, she smiled softly. "You really are ours," she whispered, brushing a hand gently over his hair.
Nick cleared his throat, his practical tone cutting through the emotion. "Sentiment is fine, but we must think wisely. A dragon—especially one infused with phoenix fire—is volatile. Left unprepared, its hatching could bring disaster."
Penny nodded quickly. "We'll need wards. Layers of containment spells. And protections so that if it lashes out, it won't harm the other creatures in your suitcase sanctuary."
Oliver straightened, his determination alight. "Then tell me what to do."
Nick's lips twitched—the ghost of a smile. "That's the right question." He pulled a small pouch from within his robes, opening it to reveal shimmering, crystalline dust. "Phoenix fire and dragon flame will feed on one another. If left unchecked, they could ignite uncontrollably. This dust is powdered sapphire infused with stabilizing runes. Spread in a circle around the hearth—it will temper the fire, ensuring the egg incubates without danger."
Oliver carefully took the pouch, sprinkling the dust around the egg as instructed. Instantly, the galaxy-flames folded inward, still luminous but now calm, steady, like stars held in a careful constellation.
"Good," Nick murmured. "Now, Penny—"
"I know." She waved her wand delicately, conjuring a dome of protective wards that shimmered faintly before fading into invisibility. "This will keep its magic from surging out when it hatches. Think of it as… a playpen for the unpredictable."
Hagrid let out a low whistle. "Never seen such work before. That's proper safe-makin', that is."
Oliver exhaled slowly, his chest finally loosening as he felt the layered protections settle into place. He looked at the egg again—now glowing quietly in its cradle, Nyx still pressed close—and felt a deep swell of pride.
Penny turned to him gently. "Oliver… listen to me. You may love this creature—and I understand why—but you must also respect it. Dragons are not phoenixes. They are not born with gentle bonds. They are fire and hunger and ferocity. Even with Nyx's influence, we cannot assume it will see you as anything but… another being in its path."
Oliver met her gaze, unwavering. "Then I'll earn its trust. Like I did with Nyx."
Nick studied him for a long moment, then inclined his head. "Perhaps that is exactly what will be required."
The four of them—boy, giant, and ancient alchemists—sat in the glow of the galaxy-fire, listening to the faint hums from within the egg. Nyx stirred only briefly to stretch her tiny wings, her eyes locking with Oliver's for a heartbeat. He understood. She had given part of herself to this egg, a blessing that could not be undone.
Whatever hatched, it would be touched by her essence forever.
Penny finally rose, brushing ash from her robes. "That's enough for tonight. We've done what we can to prepare." She bent to kiss the top of Oliver's head. "We'll check it each day. When the time comes, we'll all be here to see it born."
Oliver swallowed, his throat tight but his smile steady. "Thank you. For trusting me."
"Trust," Nick said, placing a firm hand on his shoulder, "is earned. Keep proving you deserve it."
As the galaxy-fire burned steady and Nyx hummed softly against the egg, Oliver sat back, his heart racing with equal parts fear and joy. A dragon was coming. And not just any dragon—one blessed by a phoenix.