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[Hogwarts] Ch 105: Maybe It's Fate
🕑 Added 2025-07-25 08:55:21 +0000 UTC— — — — — —
Four people arrived, each riding a broomstick and wearing dark hooded cloaks.
They were Charlie Weasley's friends.
As soon as they landed, their eyes immediately went to Ron. "You must be Charlie's little brother."
Ron scratched the back of his head awkwardly. The Weasley red hair made it pretty easy to guess.
"And this must be... Harry Potter!"
In an instant, all eyes shifted from Ron's hair to Harry's scar.
Harry let out a weary sigh and did his best to entertain the interest of Charlie's friends.
Luckily, everything had gone smoothly so far. They'd managed to sneak past Filch and his cat patrol without any issues. Feeling more relaxed, Harry started asking about Charlie's job at the dragon reserve.
"Oh, it's been rough," one of the guys said with a grin that clearly said 'serves him right'.
"I mean, poor guy's only been working there a few months and he's already run into a dragon escape incident. One of them—a Hungarian Horntail—got killed by a Dark wizard. In Germany, no less."
"Wait—what? One person killed a fire-breathing dragon?" x2
Both Harry and Ron stared in disbelief.
"Yup," the guy nodded. "No one knows who he really was, though. He hid his identity pretty well. But yeah, it was definitely just one wizard who did it. The guy vanished right after, so there's not even a way to issue a proper wanted notice. Now the whole reserve has to run patrols 24/7. It's way more exhausting than before."
Harry and Ron both clicked their tongues. They'd thought Charlie's job sounded cool—now it just sounded like a death trap.
Not worth it. Not even a little.
After chatting for a bit, the group decided it was time to move. The four visitors secured Norbert's crate with several ropes, each tied to a broom. With four brooms pulling in sync, the crate would stay stable in the air.
Harry thanked them profusely and watched as they rose into the sky.
But Norbert, sensing he was being taken away from his home to who-knows-where, started thrashing wildly inside the crate.
Now, if Norbert had been hatched by a normal flame, he'd still be a weak little preemie—but thanks to Tom using Gubraithian fire, he'd grown stronger and faster than your average baby dragon. His fire, too, burned hotter.
The group hadn't flown far when they suddenly felt a wave of intense heat. Horrified, they watched as the crate burst into a thousand pieces. Flames shot out, burning through the ropes and nearly setting their broomsticks ablaze.
"ROAAAAR!!"
The baby dragon let out a deafening roar.
It echoed across the night sky, sharp and piercing. It didn't reach the underground chambers, but students in the Ravenclaw and Gryffindor towers heard it loud and clear.
"A dragon! That was a dragon!" One kid had jumped out of bed and was now yelling excitedly out the window.
About thirty minutes later, the entire group found themselves in Professor McGonagall's office.
Ron, Harry, and all four of Charlie's friends—none of them had escaped.
They sat there on chairs, shivering and silent, unsure what kind of hell was about to rain down on them. Professor Flitwick had been the first to catch them—and when he saw Norbert, the color drained from his face.
A dragon?! In the school?!
He'd immediately dragged them all to McGonagall's office, then taken Norbert—now under a Stupefy spell—to find both McGonagall and Dumbledore.
Why McGonagall's office? Because it wasn't just Ron and Harry in trouble. All four of Charlie's friends… were Gryffindors.
"...."
Harry and Ron's minds were blank. They couldn't even imagine what version of McGonagall was about to walk through that door.
The four adults weren't doing much better. Sure, they'd graduated, but this was still their former Head of House. And she wasn't just any teacher—she was Minerva McGonagall.
No one dared mess with her back in school. And now? They were practically trembling like mice in front of a cat.
The torturous half-hour dragged on until finally, the door opened.
In walked Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall, both in their nightclothes.
McGonagall had clearly rushed—her slippers were on the wrong feet. Behind them was Hagrid, pale as a ghost, nestling the unconscious Norbert.
Flitwick didn't come. Technically, this whole disaster was Gryffindor's mess, and his presence would've only embarrassed McGonagall further.
Dumbledore entered silently, looking calm as ever—like nothing had happened.
McGonagall, on the other hand, was fuming. She stomped up to them, lips trembling with fury, nostrils flaring, eyes burning like twin infernos.
Harry thought she looked more like a fire-breathing dragon than Norbert did. He wasn't even scared of Norbert anymore—this was what real fear felt like.
"I never imagined... you would dare be so utterly reckless!"
Her voice shook with rage. She jabbed a finger at Harry and Ron. "You two! It's one in the morning! Instead of sleeping, you sneak up to the Astronomy Tower—with a dragon! A freaking dragon, which the Ministry explicitly forbids people from owning!"
"Professor McGonagall, it's all my fault…" Hagrid's voice trembled, but he still tried to take the blame.
"Silence, Rubeus!" McGonagall spun around and snapped. The half-giant instantly went mute, shrinking back like a scolded child.
Turning back to the boys, she looked utterly disappointed. "I've never been so ashamed of Gryffindor students in my life. You've broken at least fifty school rules tonight!"
Caught red-handed, Harry and Ron couldn't even defend themselves. They just hung their heads and kept quiet.
Having let out some of her fury, McGonagall now turned to the four adults. "Benjamin, Bertha, Cephus, and Jack… I truly thought you'd matured after graduation. Clearly, I was wrong. You're just as irresponsible as you were in school. If you were still students, I wouldn't hesitate to deduct a hundred points each. But since you've graduated, I can't punish you."
She turned to Dumbledore, voice full of frustration. "I'll treat them as unauthorized intruders. You deal with them. I'm done with this lawless group!"
Everyone except Dumbledore was frozen in fear.
But even Dumbledore wasn't exactly in a great mood.
'Just what kind of idiots am I surrounded by?' Dumbledore muttered.
Raising a baby dragon wasn't that bad. As long as no one found out, it was manageable.
Getting rid of the dragon? Even better. It'd mean Hagrid was finally realizing he shouldn't drag Dumbledore into more messes.
But this? How the hell had it gone so wrong?
There were no snitches. No teachers caught them. The group had simply… exposed themselves. And seriously—was the dragon alive and fully conscious during transport?! Would it have killed them to give it a sleeping draught first?
Now the entire school knew about the dragon, and he was absolutely sure the Ministry would be sending officials to investigate in a few days.
And in the end, he'd be the one cleaning up the mess.
Again.
He was exhausted—mentally and emotionally.
But what was the point of blowing up at them now? If he scolded Harry, Ron, and Hagrid as harshly as McGonagall did, their fragile nerves might just snap.
"…Sigh."
The old man couldn't help but let out a long, weary sigh.
To everyone else in the room, it landed like a hammer of shame. No anger. No yelling. Just disappointment. It hurt more.
"Minerva," Dumbledore said gently, "what's done is done. Scolding them won't change anything now."
Even though he was the Headmaster, whenever McGonagall got angry, even Dumbledore knew to step aside. He was more of a symbol anyway—a stabilizing force. The actual day-to-day running of Hogwarts, the rules, the students… that was McGonagall's territory. She was strict, but always fair. That's why the students both respected and feared her.
"Actions have consequences," McGonagall replied sharply, her chest still heaving with anger. "Punishment is necessary."
"Of course," Dumbledore nodded. "But right now, our top priority is controlling the fallout."
He turned to Hagrid, his voice firm. "Hagrid, aside from Harry and Ron… who else knows about the dragon?"
Hagrid answered in a small voice, "Riddle, Hermione, and… Greengrass."
"And Malfoy," Harry added.
Dumbledore nodded slightly. "Mr. Riddle isn't the type to gossip, and neither are his friends. Hagrid, from this moment on, that dragon is an egg I happened to acquire. I gave it to you temporarily, and now it's being sent to the Romanian reserve. Understood?"
Tears welled up in Hagrid's eyes. Dumbledore was taking the blame for him.
McGonagall understood too. Dumbledore wasn't just protecting Hagrid—he was protecting the school's reputation. If anyone else had been keeping a dragon, it would've been a huge public scandal, damaging the school's reputation.
But if it was Dumbledore? No one would bat an eye. Even she felt that way.
"…What about these troublemakers?" McGonagall said, clearly still fuming as she gestured at the lineup of guilty Gryffindors—graduates and current students alike.
"Bertha," Dumbledore said kindly, addressing one of Charlie's friends, "thank you all for coming. Hagrid, hand the dragon over."
He gestured toward Norbert.
"He won't wake up for at least a day or two," Dumbledore assured them. "You can transport him safely."
Charlie's friends nodded rapidly, promising to keep everything secret. They practically snatched Norbert out of Hagrid's arms and bolted out of the castle, stumbling over each other in their haste.
And then, only two were left: Harry and Ron.
Dumbledore turned to them, his eyes sharp as ever. "Harry, I hope this experience has taught you something important. No matter what you do, you must always be prepared. The reason you got caught wasn't because someone turned you in—it was entirely your own mistake."
McGonagall's expression shifted. Something felt… off. Was Dumbledore seriously giving Harry advice on how to break the rules more carefully next time?
"Because your actions woke up half the school," Dumbledore continued, "I have no choice but to take away one hundred points from Gryffindor. I hope that drives home just how serious this was. Also, starting next week, both of you will serve detention."
Only one hundred points?!
Harry kept his head down, looking appropriately guilty… but inside, he was breathing a huge sigh of relief.
Honestly, with the mess they'd made, he'd been expecting way worse. Losing just a hundred points felt like mercy.
"One hundred points… each," Dumbledore added after a beat.
Harry's stomach dropped. Ron's eyes rolled back so hard he nearly passed out.
As for McGonagall? She didn't want to say another word. She just wanted to break something... or someone.
---
The next morning, Hogwarts was buzzing with gossip.
The fire dragon from last night was trending school-wide. The Slytherins and Hufflepuffs in the dungeons had only found out after the fact—and the Hufflepuffs especially were devastated to have missed it.
The second biggest topic of discussion? Gryffindor's house points.
The giant hourglass in the hall looked like it had been drained overnight. Barely a hundred points remained. Even for Gryffindor, that was rock bottom. And with end-of-term exams right around the corner, there was no way they could catch up.
Rumors spread fast.
Everyone knew it was Potter and his sidekick Weasley who had caused the deduction. No one knew exactly what they'd done—but clearly, it had been bad.
Of course, others might be in the dark, but Tom wasn't.
He felt genuinely sorry for Voldemort. To lose to someone like Harry Potter… how stupid do you have to be?
He'd already removed the biggest variable—Malfoy—and still, somehow, things spiraled out of control.
"Potter! You're the best player Slytherin's ever had!" Malfoy shouted across the hall, triggering a round of laughter.
"..."
Harry walked back to his seat like he didn't hear a thing, head down the whole time.
...
From that day on, Hermione started going all-out in class. She answered every question she could to try and claw back points for Gryffindor. Professors like Flitwick and Sprout noticed and started letting her earn extra points—especially since they thought Gryffindor had suffered enough. Even McGonagall gave her more chances, hoping they could end the year with a little dignity.
But Tom? Tom was cursing.
He never expected the backlash to land on him.
Because Hermione was racking up so many points, he wasn't getting called on as much anymore. Slytherin's once-safe lead was now slipping away bit by bit.
He felt robbed. His perfect academic record was suffering—because of Harry.
Yeah, he didn't blame Hermione. Right now, he felt like everything was Harry Potter's fault—an idiot who couldn't even handle a simple smuggling escort mission.
Dammit! The great Tom Riddle, outmaneuvered by that guy? Was this fate? Was Harry Potter literally every Tom Riddle's natural-born nemesis?
"Damn plot armor!"
That night, Tom lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, plotting how to salvage the situation and earn more points.
But suddenly, his hand started to heat up.
A faint glow—an image of a unicorn's head—appeared on the back of his hand.
"The unicorn is in danger!"
Tom grabbed his wand and bolted from the dormitory. With magic-enhanced speed, he raced toward the Forbidden Forest like a blur of wind and fire.
.
.
.
