The Big Dipper

The Norwegian Ridgeback

"Quirrell looks like he's about to keel over," whispered Cassius, leaning around Vanessa. Ursula shushed him.

"You're right," she whispered back, "but pay attention."

In the weeks since Christmas, Professor Quirrell had only gotten paler, thinner, and more jumpy, if that was even possible. Rumors flew about what was making him look and act this way, but no one had any convincing ideas. Ursula noticed Fred and George's little brother Ron had started telling people off for making fun of Professor Quirrell's stutter, which was a nice effort but not very effective coming from a first year.

Professor Kettleburn's probation ended after a month of harmless lessons involving flobberworms, horklumps, and a very frightened Porlock, but he didn't seem too bothered by being put on probation at all.

"I've survived this long, haven't I?" he grunted, before narrowly avoiding a murtlap bite.

The Easter holidays came and went, mostly spent doing homework to prepare for the end of year exams. The third years were used to their teachers piling on more homework as the year came to an end, but it was still a bit of a drag.

Adrian gained more and more confidence after every practice and game. Ursula and Cassius occasionally came to watch him practice, but as their exams drew nearer they had less and less free time. Slytherin had defeated Ravenclaw two months prior, and in the first week of May they defeated Hufflepuff as well. If Gryffindor beat Ravenclaw, they would win the Quidditch Cup. If not, Slytherin house would be the champions once again.

Draco seemed to be enjoying his first year. Ursula made time to check in with him every few days at least and ask about his classes and whatnot. He had made friends, which she was glad of, but only fellow Slytherins, and couldn't seem to become more than acquaintances with Cillian O'Hara.

"He's just not one of us," complained Draco one afternoon. Ursula sighed.

"He doesn't have to be," she said, idly turning a page in her book.

The topic Draco was most intent on talking about was Harry Potter, a subject that didn't interest Ursula in the slightest. Draco was always going on and on about him and his two friends, Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley.

"Potter," he would say, whenever he reached the end of his rant.

"Draco dear," said Ursula finally, when she couldn't take any more discussion of Harry Potter. "Please, unless Harry actually does something, I ask that you stop talking about him."

"But he —"

"Not liking someone doesn't make everything they do suspicious," said Ursula. "If you dislike him so much, don't let him occupy so much of your thoughts."

This advice seemed to work, or at least Draco stopped talking about Harry every time he saw Ursula. Either way, she was pleased.

One day, at the end of May, Draco was practically bouncing as he passed Ursula, clutching a dilapidated old book in his hands.

"What have you got there?" asked Ursula, stopping him. "That's not one of yours, is it?"

"It's Weasley's," said Draco. "Look what's inside!"

He handed Ursula a letter, which she unfolded with trepidation.

Dear Ron,

How are you? Thanks for the letter — I'd be glad to take the Norwegian Ridgeback, but it won't be easy getting him here. I think the best thing will be to send him over with some friends of mine who are coming to visit me next week. Trouble is, they mustn't be seen carrying an illegal dragon.