Chapter 41: A Tale of Two Plans
Harry and Ron finally managed to send the letter to Charlie. A significant weight seemed to lift from their shoulders; now, all they had to do was wait for him to arrive and take the dragon away.
However, in a moment of spectacular carelessness, Ron made a critical error. He tucked Charlie's reply inside a textbook, which was later snatched by Draco Malfoy. Naturally, this meant Draco now knew the exact time and place of the handover.
And if Draco knew, so did Solim—though he had already deduced it. Hermione and Neville, who were present when Draco revealed his prize, also knew.
That evening, Hermione and Neville relayed the bad news to Harry and Ron in the Gryffindor common room. The two boys now understood that their adversary was fully aware of their plans. It was a convoluted situation, but both sides were now operating with perfect knowledge of the other's intentions.
They retreated to an unused classroom, where Hermione unleashed her fury. "Solim is right! You two are as brainless as trolls!" she snapped, her voice trembling with frustration. A foolish ally, it seemed, was more dangerous than a clever enemy. Originally, even if Malfoy knew their goal, he wouldn't have known the precise timing. But thanks to Ron's blunder, he did. Changing the plan now was impossible; Charlie and his friends were likely already en route.
"Hermione, we can't change the plan now," Harry argued, trying to salvage the situation. "We don't have time to send another owl. This is our only chance to get rid of Norbert. We'll have to risk it. Besides, I have the Invisibility Cloak. It can cover all three of us. Malfoy will never see us."
Hermione listened, then turned a cool, assessing gaze on him. "Do you know what Solim said about your plan after Malfoy told him?"
"Why should we care what the Slytherin snakes say?" Ron grumbled.
"'Stupid, arrogant, and brainless.' That's what he called you," Hermione stated flatly, her eyes locking with Ron's before shifting back to Harry. "You're meeting Charlie at the top of the Astronomy Tower, correct?"
Harry and Ron exchanged a wary glance. "Yes," Harry confirmed. "That's the plan. But Hermione, with the Cloak, Malfoy won't—"
"Idiots!" Hermione interrupted, her voice sharp. "Why on earth are you bringing the dragon into the castle?"
The two boys stared at her, bewildered.
She took a deep, steadying breath, shaking her head in sheer disbelief. "Wouldn't it have been infinitely simpler to just have Charlie go directly to Hagrid's hut to collect the dragon?"
The solution was so obvious, so safe. They could have avoided the immense risk of smuggling a noisy, growing dragon through the castle corridors in the dead of night, dodging patrolling professors and Filch. She couldn't tell if they were genuinely incapable of seeing the simpler path, or if they actively craved the thrill of the more dangerous one.
"Maybe you just enjoy the drama, or maybe you truly are thoughtless," she said, her anger giving way to exhaustion. "Have you even considered what will happen if you're caught inside the castle with a dragon on a Saturday night?" The potential consequences—expulsion, Ministry involvement—made her head spin.
Hagrid's hut was isolated on the edge of the Forbidden Forest, far from prying eyes. Instead of using that perfect, secluded location for the handover, they had chosen the most complicated and perilous route imaginable, carrying a heavy crate up to the highest tower in the castle.
"It's too late to change the plan with Charlie now," Harry said weakly, the sheer stupidity of their scheme dawning on him as Hermione laid out the obvious alternative.
Hermione closed her eyes, sighing in profound resignation. "Then don't be offended when I say you have no brains. Couldn't you at least have told Hagrid that Charlie was coming to him directly? Even if you couldn't change the plan with Charlie, you could have told him at the tower to go down to Hagrid's from there!"
She had said all she could. "Figure it out yourselves." With that, she turned to leave, utterly drained.
Harry and Ron's approach was quintessentially Gryffindor: they had to be the heroes of their own adventure, prioritizing excitement and personal involvement over simple, safe efficiency. They thrived on the adrenaline, the racing heartbeat. Slytherin, in stark contrast, was ruthlessly pragmatic, focused solely on the desired outcome with little regard for the theatrics of the process. After spending time with Solim, Hermione found herself increasingly appreciating Slytherin's logical, objective approach to problem-solving. Gryffindors were led by their emotions, often clinging to subjective beliefs despite evidence to the contrary—like their unwavering conviction that Snape was after the Stone.
Stubbornness could be a virtue on the right path, but on the wrong one, it was a one-way ticket to disaster.
Though chastised, Harry and Ron had at least learned a safer way to handle the final step of the dragon handoff. A thought occurred to Harry: if Hermione had been involved from the start, things would never have gotten so messy. He had to admit she was far better at strategizing than he or Ron were.
He nudged Ron. "I think you should apologize to Hermione," he whispered. "For what you said last time."
Ron hesitated, then relented. "Fine, I'll apologize."
They caught up with Hermione at the doorway.
"So, you're apologizing?" Hermione asked, her arms crossed. Ron's apology lacked sincerity, feeling more like a concession to circumstance than genuine remorse. But Hermione, weary of the conflict and not wanting to burn all bridges, decided to accept it. She gave a curt nod. "Alright. Apology accepted."