Hagrid was not expelled.
Although the Hogwarts Board of Governors convened and unanimously passed a resolution to dismiss him, the motion was ultimately vetoed by Headmaster Dumbledore's singular vote.
Nolan knew why Dumbledore was so insistent on keeping the half-giant. The headmaster hoped that, in a future war against the Dark Lord, he could secure the support—or at least partial cooperation—of the giant faction.
Still, in Nolan's eyes, Hagrid's presence had brought nothing but trouble to Hogwarts.
While a handful of brainless Gryffindors marveled at how "cool" dragons were and expressed their desire for one of their own, the more rational students worried about the school's safety.
After all, not every student had the surname Stock or Chang, with a Draugr ready to slay a dragon on their behalf.
The Slytherins and Ravenclaws who had participated in the Quidditch match were especially outraged. They had narrowly avoided becoming dragon food and were now demanding Hagrid's immediate expulsion from the school.
But Nolan and Snape weren't concerned with these administrative squabbles. Their attention was squarely fixed on Norbert's remains.
"He can't be allowed to hide the dragon," Snape muttered, pacing irritably outside Hagrid's hut. After a few moments, his frustration bubbled over into rapid complaints. "That oaf has no idea how valuable a dragon's body is! And now he wants to give that overgrown lizard a funeral! A funeral, Draugr. Absolute madness."
Meanwhile, Nolan was poring over a thick leather-bound book titled Do You Really Understand Dragons? Dr. Verscha's Guide to Nature's Treasure Trove. As he flipped through the pages, he circled sections on dragon hearts, scales, and other valuable parts, jotting notes on a roll of parchment.
Without looking up, Nolan commented, "Professor Snape, instead of complaining here, why not persuade Hagrid to cancel the funeral?"
Snape stopped pacing and glared at Nolan. "Let me teach you something, Draugr. Wizards and idiotic giants cannot have meaningful conversations."
"Did you actually try persuading him? How did you go about it?"
"Oh, I certainly tried!" Snape growled, his words dripping with sarcasm. "I told him, 'Do you have any idea how valuable dragon blood is? You're wasting its worth! I could buy it off you with Galleons. Take the money and buy yourself a decent robe, one that doesn't look like it was stitched by a troll.'"
Nolan stared at him, dumbfounded. "That's... how you tried to convince him?"
Snape's brow twitched as he snapped coldly, "I put in my best effort."
"Well," Nolan said with a shrug, "I must say, Professor Snape, you're not exactly cut out for salesmanship."
"Then why don't you try, Draugr?" Snape sneered. "Go ahead, persuade the oaf to cancel that ridiculous funeral. And while you're at it, make sure to bring me some dragon's blood—before it dries out completely."
Nolan made his way to Hagrid's hut, all too aware of Snape's icy gaze boring into his back.
Knocking on the door, Nolan called out in a measured tone, "Hagrid, we need to talk."
From inside, the only response was the muffled sound of sobbing.
Nolan knocked again, his patience wearing thin. "I know Norbert's death has hit you hard, but we have to face reality, Hagrid. Locking yourself inside won't help. And you should know, dragons don't need funerals. They don't believe in religion, nor do they have souls requiring absolution."
The sobbing from within the hut grew louder, accompanied by a series of anguished wails.
Nolan's voice turned sharper. "Oh, for Merlin's sake, Hagrid. Your grief is only allowing those rare magical materials to rot away. If you want to cry, do it somewhere else. Before that, bring out the dragon's body. It might help me craft alchemical tools for advanced transfiguration or allow Professor Snape to develop a new potion. These are priceless contributions to wizardkind, and you're wasting our time, Hagrid."
Behind him, Snape's jaw dropped in disbelief. He couldn't tell if Nolan was genuinely trying to reason with Hagrid or simply looking for ways to provoke him further.
Apparently, the person inside the hut was wondering the same thing. Moments later, an enraged Hagrid flung the door open.
Nolan raised an eyebrow. "You finally opened the door, Hagrid. We need to talk—wait... Potter?"
Indeed, it was Harry Potter who had stepped out of Hagrid's hut, glaring furiously at Nolan. "Nolan VonDraugr! I thought you were different from the other Slytherins. Looks like I was wrong! You're just as disgusting as Draco Malfoy!"
Behind Harry, Hermione Granger was pleading, "Oh, don't say that, Harry. Please."
But her efforts were quickly drowned out by Ron Weasley's angry shout. "Don't you dare defend him, Hermione, or we're done!"
That shut Hermione up.
Nolan sighed, speaking calmly. "I don't have anything to say to you, Potter. My business here is with Hagrid."
"If you're here to pick at Norbert's body, then you can leave!" Harry snapped, his anger boiling over. "Norbert was our friend, and he deserves a proper funeral!"
Slowing his tone and choosing his words carefully, Nolan tried to reason with him. "I can appreciate the idea of friendship between different species, but Potter, Norbert was only two weeks old. Are you telling me your friendships are so cheap they only take two weeks to form?"
"It's not about me! Norbert was Hagrid's best friend, so he's my friend too," Harry rasped.
"Your friendships really are cheap, then, Potter," Nolan said flatly.
That was the last straw. The Boy Who Lived bristled with fury, drawing his wand and snarling like an angry cub. "Take that back, Nolan, or you'll regret it!"
"Don't point your wand at me," Nolan said impatiently, snapping his fingers. Harry froze, his entire body locking up before he collapsed onto the ground.
Behind him, Ron roared with rage, charging forward—only to find himself suspended upside down, stuck to the ceiling with a Levicorpus.
Ron wasn't giving up so easily, though. He fumbled for his wand, but before he could cast anything, it was disarmed with a flick of Nolan's hand.
"Don't make this harder than it needs to be," Nolan said coolly, stepping over Harry as though he were nothing more than an inconvenient pile of laundry. Entering the hut, he found Hermione standing guard in front of a slumped Hagrid. Her anxious eyes darted between Nolan and the half-giant, her lips parting as though she wanted to speak but thought better of it.
"Are you planning to take me on too, Granger?" Nolan asked, raising an eyebrow. When the young witch remained silent, he walked past her without hesitation and stopped in front of Hagrid.
The half-giant reeked of alcohol, surrounded by a sea of grimy bottles. His eyes were bloodshot, and his breath was thick with the stench of stale mead.
"I won't give you Norbert," Hagrid slurred, his voice trembling as he mumbled over and over. "I can't let my boy be cut up and taken apart... not after he's already been killed."
"But Hagrid, your dragon can still serve a greater purpose," Nolan said, his tone patient but firm. "In fact, every professor hopes you'll donate Norbert's body. But only Professor Snape and I came here to ask you personally. Do you know why? It's because they're showing you respect, Hagrid. I believe Professor Dumbledore would want you to respond to that respect in kind."