Was That Supposed to Happen?

Harry was deep into the first task of the Triwizard Tournament, facing a dragon in a fierce battle. The goal was to retrieve a fake golden egg from the dragon's nest. During the chase, he lost track of the dragon when it charged onto the bridge and pursued him out of the stadium. As someone with a compassionate heart, Harry couldn’t abandon the injured dragon. He landed beside her and began clearing the rubble from her body. Gently rubbing her snout to comfort her, he spoke in Parseltongue, a language he always perceived as English.

“I’m sorry they forced you into this, just as they forced me. They’ve made you guard a fake egg—it isn’t right. I know another dragon had to compete after losing her eggs; it’s sickening!”

Relieved there was no time limit pressing on him, he would have been content with the lowest score. The dragon’s roar startled him, but he soon realized she was speaking. “It seems like we are all pawns in this world,” she said.

Harry smiled and continued his work until he noticed her broken wing. Remembering Professor McGonagall’s lecture about magic being driven by intent, he placed his hand gently on the injured wing. Closing his eyes, he focused on healing the wing. He heard a series of pops and the dragon’s cry of pain, but when he opened his eyes, the wing was miraculously healed.

Harry grabbed his broom, ready to flee, but was surprised when the dragon lowered her head and knelt. From his extensive research, he knew this was a dragon’s way of offering a ride. Smiling, he climbed onto her back just in front of her wings, and they soared back to the arena. Upon landing, spectators and dragon handlers alike were in shock. Harry smirked at their astonished faces and carefully dismounted the female Hungarian Horntail. He approached the nest, retrieved the golden egg, and then noticed the other eggs. Something instinctively drew him to touch one, and as he did, the egg began to hatch. The hatchling nudged his hand with her snout as if greeting her surrogate mother.

A tingling sensation spread through Harry’s mind, followed by a sharp burning on his forehead. Clutching his forehead, he felt something fading away—a tainted presence. Once it vanished, a different, purer presence replaced it. A mark appeared on his hand, aching as though stabbed. A tiny voice echoed in his mind, saying, “Food.” Realizing the mark and new presence indicated a familiar bond with the hatchling, Harry understood that the bond was now firmly established.

Seeing the dragon handlers approaching, Harry scooped up the hatchling and declared, “The hatchling will be fine with me; she has already bonded with me.”

The handlers were skeptical, and the more aggressive one attempted to snatch the dragon from his arms. Harry smacked the handler’s hands away and growled, “Stop it! She stays with me! Are you deaf or just dumb? She’s bonded to me, and she will die without me.”

Dumbledore, who had witnessed the events, descended into the enclosure, displeased. “Harry, I know you don’t want to give her up, but you must. She belongs to them,” Dumbledore said.

Harry turned to the Headmaster, revealing the mark on his left hand. “No, the dragon is mine. I must take care of her and WILL NOT give her up!”

Dumbledore looked at the mark in confusion, but Charlie Weasley, one of the dragon handlers, recognized its significance. “We can’t take the dragon away. She’s Harry’s familiar and the only rider she will have.”

Gasps erupted from the crowd. Ignoring them, Harry focused on the hatchling’s cries for food.

“Dobby!”

The house-elf appeared instantly. “Mr. Harry Potter, sir! How can I help Mr. Harry Potter, sir?”

“Please get me some raw beef strips small enough for a hatchling dragon.”

Dobby vanished and returned minutes later with the meat. Harry began feeding the hatchling, walking away from the scene.

Passing the other enclosures, Harry saw the Welsh Green dragon mourning over her broken eggs. Feeling sympathy, he decided to help. Kneeling by the wreckage, he focused his magic to heal the eggs, drawing small amounts of energy from nature to avoid causing harm. He channeled the energy to restore the eggs completely. When he opened his eyes, two Welsh Green hatchlings were nuzzling their mother.

Feeling the mother’s excitement, Harry left before anyone could discover what he had done. As he walked through the forest, he felt a calling and followed it, finding a group of High Elves in a clearing.

“You have done well, young one. You have a good heart. We wish to bless you with a gift,” the elves said.

Harry, astonished, allowed the elves to touch his face. He felt their magic transform him, and when they stepped back, he realized his vision had improved without his glasses. One of the elves conjured a mirror, and Harry saw that he now resembled them, with elongated, pointed ears.

He smiled, pleased with his new appearance and the fact that he had gained a dragon as a familiar. Thanking the elves, he watched them vanish and headed to Gryffindor Tower. There, he planned to rest with his dragon before dinner.

Halfway to Gryffindor Tower, Dumbledore cornered him. “Harry, I can’t allow you to keep that creature here. She’ll have to stay outside,” Dumbledore said, trying once more to take the baby dragon from Harry. If he succeeded, it would sever the bond and endanger the hatchling.

Harry, wearing strong glamours to disguise himself, replied calmly, “Fine, then I’ll stay outside too.”

As he turned to leave, Dumbledore spoke again, “Harry, you need to be in your dormitory. The dragon must stay outside.”

Harry’s patience snapped. “No. You want my familiar to die. She can’t survive alone outside. I can protect her inside or with me outside. The school charter says I can keep any familiar inside the castle. That’s where she stays.”

Dumbledore was taken aback, surprised by Harry’s knowledge of the rules.

McGonagall, who had been watching from around the corner in her cat form, came down to support Harry. She had noticed Dumbledore’s strange behavior and decided to intervene.

“I’m sorry, but it’s a danger and I must protect the school,” Dumbledore said, lunging at Harry to seize the dragon.

Harry grabbed the Headmaster’s robes. “Touch my dragon and you’ll be lucky if all you get is hurt. This is your only warning.”

Minerva was shocked at Dumbledore’s behavior and Harry’s fierce stance. Dumbledore, refusing to be intimidated, cast a curse. Harry quickly countered with a spell, blasting Dumbledore back. He then pinned the Headmaster against the wall, saying coldly, “Don’t ever touch me, my familiars, or try to curse us again or you WILL die!”

Harry stepped back, letting go of Dumbledore’s robes. Minerva, regaining her composure, helped secure the Headmaster with Auror-strength ropes and sent her Patronus to fetch Poppy.

Poppy arrived swiftly, taking Dumbledore away with a pointed look at Minerva, signaling that she wanted a full explanation soon.

Minerva approached Harry. “I’m sorry for Albus’s actions. I don’t know what’s gotten into him. But you’re not in trouble. You did what you needed to protect yourself and your familiar, just as I did.”

Harry nodded. “Didn’t you notice that Fawkes didn’t appear when I cast spells on him? He wouldn’t have shown up unless he saw Dumbledore as evil or resisted a forced bond.”

Minerva shook her head. “That thought crossed my mind. It isn’t good. I’m starting to wonder what he’s up to.”

Harry recalled a realization from when the dark presence faded. “I don’t think Tom Riddle is evil; I think Voldemort is. I believe he was taken over by a demon early on, which forced him to split his soul, giving the demon control. That explains his immortality. I suspect Dumbledore had a hand in this. The same demon might have influenced Grindelwald. Dumbledore played the hero, killing his friend rather than helping him. Once Grindelwald was gone, the demon moved on, causing chaos for Dumbledore to exploit and eventually take control.”

Minerva was taken aback but found the reasoning compelling.

“Think about it,” Harry continued. “Dumbledore’s greatest enemies were my parents, who ended up dead. Then I became Voldemort’s focus. Why? Because I’m Dumbledore’s and the demon’s greatest weakness. The stronger my bond with the dragon, the more Dumbledore wanted to take her away to weaken me.”

Minerva finally realized how wrong everything had been for years. She patted Harry on the shoulder then hurried off as quickly as her dress and age allowed to call the Aurors about the Headmaster. Harry made his way back to Gryffindor Tower, where he slept with the dragon curled up in his bed until he was awakened by the little voice in his mind, signaling that she was hungry again. To his surprise, it was already morning.

Harry gathered what he needed for a shower, took the dragon with him, and they both cleaned up before heading down to breakfast. At the Great Hall, Harry first shot a glare at the curious stares directed at him. Then, he fed the baby dragon as much meat as she could handle. By the time she was on her second plate of meat, Professor McGonagall took to the podium.

“ATTENTION, EVERYONE,” she began, her voice carrying across the hall. “I have the distinct pleasure of informing you all that Headmaster Albus Dumbledore is no longer Headmaster of Hogwarts.”

A collective gasp rose from the hall, including from the visiting schools.

“It turns out he spent his life creating 'Dark Lords' to bring about death, destruction, and chaos, only to defeat them and appear as the hero. He planned to take down Voldemort himself after allowing Mr. Potter to be murdered, then seize control of the wizarding world and destroy the Muggle world for 'the greater good.' That is all. Thank you.”

Minerva returned to the Head Table with a weary sigh. Only a few people noticed Professor Snape and Professor Flitwick giving her supportive pats on the shoulder.

Whispers and chatter filled the hall until a Slytherin student stood up and asked, “So you’re saying Gryffindor produced TWO of the greatest Dark Lords in the last one hundred years?”

Minerva rose once more, her resolve firm. “Yes, that is exactly right. Let me also make one final announcement. As Headmistress of Hogwarts, I have the authority to cancel the Triwizard Tournament. There will be no further tasks and no Triwizard Champion. If the visiting schools wish to remain for the rest of the year, they are welcome to do so, and we will still have the Yule Ball. Thank you, and enjoy your day.”

The hall fell into stunned silence. Suddenly, a voice from the Gryffindor Table broke the quiet. “YES! THANK YOU, HEADMISTRESS!”