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[Hogwarts] Ch 94: The Second Trial’s Requirement
🕑 Added 2025-07-15 20:43:25 +0000 UTC— — — — — —
BOOM!
With a thunderous crash, the massive corpse of the fire dragon slammed into the ground, nearly filling the entire backyard.
Even in death, the dragon still gave off a faint aura of draconic might. Most wizards might not have noticed, but Fleur was part Veela—one-fourth magical creature—so she felt it far more intensely than the others.
Hearing the commotion, Polana rushed over, only to stop dead in her tracks, eyes wide in shock as she stared at the dragon's enormous body.
"He really did it!"
In Western legends, slaying a dragon made you a hero of mythic proportions—your name forever etched in glory. Names like Siegfried, Beowulf, Saint George, Lancelot, and Saint Martha filled such tales.
Some of those dragon slayers had actually been wizards. Real ones. And they'd truly accomplished the feat.
But a wizard who managed to slay a dragon at age eleven?
That was something else entirely.
As she watched the boy casually recount his battle with the dragon to Fleur, Polana felt her mind drift.
Maybe… just maybe… this was the greatest opportunity their Veela tribe had seen in the past hundred years.
If Fleur ended up with Tom, they'd have a legendary dragon slayer on their side. And this dragon slayer? He was only going to get stronger.
Sure, the French Ministry of Magic had a good relationship with their tribe—for now—but it was mostly transactional. And within the Ministry, various factions were always plotting. There were plenty who had their eyes on the tribe's wealth—or worse, the Veela themselves.
The only thing keeping everything stable was the balance of power. But once that balance shifted, they'd need force to get people to listen to reason.
And honestly, with the way Fleur was throwing herself at Tom, Polana figured she didn't need to feel guilty about 'selling off' her granddaughter.
Smiling to herself, she quietly slipped away, leaving the backyard to the two lovebirds.
They were standing close—very close. After bathing in dragon blood, Tom had grown taller. Now, he was the same height as Fleur, who was three years older. They actually looked pretty good together.
"I used the same magic I used to save you all that day," Tom explained casually. "Though the fire dragon was way more of a pain. Normal wizards? It'd roast one of them in a few seconds. But this thing got blasted for minutes and was still flying around."
"That was Fiendfyre?" Fleur asked, eyes wide. "But the books say Fiendfyre is uncontrollable. Only a few spells can even resist it."
Tom shrugged. "That just means the people who wrote those books aren't as good as me—or the person who taught me. So of course they think Fiendfyre can't be controlled."
"Hmph. Always so full of yourself."
"How is that bragging? If I wrote a book, it'd be way better than any of theirs."
"Then go write one." Fleur smirked, her bright smile teasing. "I'll be your first buyer."
"Nah," Tom said, shaking his head. "I'd be worried no one could afford it."
Just the method for controlling Fiendfyre would drive every dark wizard insane with greed. Whether it was knowledge from Grindelwald or Andros, it was priceless. Tom firmly believed in the principle: powerful knowledge shouldn't be handed out freely.
Only those he deemed worthy—or those with something valuable to offer in return—could earn such secrets.
Fleur didn't tease him this time. After watching him slay a fire dragon, she could feel the change in him. Tom's presence had grown sharper—more intense. He didn't just feel powerful anymore; he radiated it.
Compared to the other boys at school, who acted like strutting peacocks trying to show off, Tom might as well have been from another world.
...
About half an hour later, Fleur figured Tom must be exhausted after such a brutal battle. She told him to get some rest and left the cabin.
But after absorbing the fire dragon's blood, Tom was anything but tired. In fact, he was buzzing with energy.
He closed his eyes and focused, diving into his study space to check on the second trial.
The ancient draconic symbol had disappeared, replaced by a vast starry sky. Floating in that sky were twelve stellar signs—eleven dim, one shining brightly.
In Greek mythology, twelve was a sacred number. The zodiac signs were said to be reflections of myths, with even Hercules leaving his mark in the stars—the constellation Hercules.
These twelve stellar signs represented Tom's path through the trials.
He focused his mind on the second sign, the next trial in the series. Almost immediately, the sign responded, sending its message directly into his mind:
[Second Trial – Sanctity: Earn the recognition and loyalty of a unicorn.]
[Reward: Blessing of a Sacred Beast – purify your soul, enhance your comprehension.]
The first trial had strengthened his body and magic. The second focused on his soul and perception. Both were top-tier rewards.
But this one…
Wasn't this a bit too much?
If anyone understood unicorns, it was other Men of Culture—like himself.
Unicorns were sacred, pure, and highly resistant to dark magic. They were revered in myth, but in real life, their rules were even stricter. For one, they only allowed contact from girls who were pure of heart. That alone put Tom in the "absolutely not" category.
He tried communicating with the second stellar sign, asking if the trial could be changed. He wouldn't mind hunting a few unicorns instead—surely that counted for something?
Earning their recognition? That was borderline impossible.
Was he supposed to crossdress?
Maybe… borrow some of Fleur's clothes?
Not seeing any good solutions, Tom decided to pay a visit to the study space and ask his two ancient teachers.
But before he could say a word, both Andros and Grindelwald immediately noticed something was different about him.
"You've fused with dragon blood?" Grindelwald frowned. "Tom… did you already slay the dragon?"
Tom nodded. "Yeah. Just took out a dragon, then had a nice dragon blood bath. Fused right after."
Andros and Grindelwald exchanged a glance.
If it were really that easy, countless wizards wouldn't have died trying. Very few had ever succeeded in fusing with dragon blood.
Still, they didn't push for details. It wasn't important.
What was important was understanding why Tom had been so obsessed with killing a dragon himself.
Now it made sense. There were enormous benefits waiting for him.
Andros looked at Grindelwald and grinned. "Well, I guess it's time to raise the training difficulty. Fusing with dragon blood? He can handle two more hours a day, easy."
Grindelwald nodded in agreement. "With advantages like this, if he doesn't work harder, when is he ever going to beat Dumbledore?"
Tom smirked. "Mr. Andros, let's make it eight hours a day from now on—four with you, four with him. I need both dark and light magic if I want to grow in balance."
"Now that's a good idea." x2
Over the past few days, something unexpected had happened—Andros and Grindelwald were actually getting along.
Tom had been worried at first. Given how different their personalities were, he thought for sure they'd butt heads. But clearly, he'd been overthinking it.
Andros was the very definition of a righteous wizard. You could practically see the word Justice glowing off him. But that didn't mean he was naive or soft.
Back during the dark ages of Greece, being naive or overly kind-hearted didn't get you far—it usually got you killed.
Andros's sense of justice was clear and unshakable. He didn't bully the weak, and he didn't bow to the strong. If something needed to be said, he let his fists—or his wand—do the talking.
His powerful Patronus wasn't some symbol of inner goodness; it came from unshakable will and a freakish natural talent.
It perfectly fit that quote: "My heart and my actions are as clear as a mirror—everything I do is for justice."
As for Grindelwald—he wasn't your typical dark wizard either. Sure, he'd done some horrific things, no doubt about that. But his dream was to build a world ruled by wizards—one where they no longer had to hide from Muggles like frightened rats.
Call him extreme. Call him obsessed. But pure evil? Not quite.
Andros actually found that idea… somewhat in line with how things worked in his own time, when wizards were nobles—guests of royal courts, not outcasts.
So, oddly enough, they had a lot to talk about.
Tom broke in, "Gentlemen, the fire dragon problem's been handled. But I've run into a new one."
He explained the new trial's requirement—to gain the recognition and loyalty of a unicorn—and waited to see what advice these two veterans might offer.
Grindelwald raised a brow. "So if you succeed, do you get the unicorn's bloodline power too?"
Tom shook his head, and both men let out a visible sigh of relief.
Sure, the dragon bloodline was powerful and enviable, but for people at their level, one bloodline ability wasn't exactly earth-shattering.
But if Tom had two? Even they might start feeling a twinge of jealousy.
"No bloodline fusion this time," Tom explained, "but it'll purify my soul and increase its quality."
Pfft!
Andros nearly spat out a lung, and Grindelwald's eye twitched violently.
"Do you hear yourself?" Andros muttered, exasperated. "Soul quality?"
Yeah. That was a big deal.
Let's break it down.
If a wizard's life potential is represented by a value of 1, and their soul quality is also 1, then their power would multiply out as 1×1 = 1.
That makes them a regular human.
Now, not everyone starts with a perfect 1 in both stats—some people might have a life value of 1.2, some maybe just 0.8.
The point is, boosting either of those numbers increases your overall potential.
The potion Andros had given Tom earlier—that had raised his life essence. It was a strategic-level elixir, not something Andros had brewed himself. It came from another legendary wizard: the prophet Mopsus.
Mopsus lived about 200 years before Andros and was the strongest wizard of his era—a true "King of the Century." He wielded prophetic magic and had defeated a rival seer named Calchas, leading his kingdom to new heights.
Unfortunately, he got tangled up in a royal succession crisis, was betrayed, and poisoned. A tragic end for such a powerful man.
But before dying, he left behind a vicious curse on the royal family: "Your heir will kill you, and your son will marry your wife."
This, of course, became the infamous Oedipus curse of Thebes, which triggered three generations of disaster—culminating in the Trojan War.
Thanks to that potion, Tom's life value had risen to around 1.5—about a 50% increase. Fusing with dragon blood had sent that number soaring again—he was easily a 3.0 now, just in terms of life force alone.
But that still hadn't touched his soul value.
Now? He was about to level that up too.
Even if his soul quality only increased by 0.1, the total power boost would be way more significant than just raising life essence alone.
That's the terrifying nature of multiplicative scaling. It's the power of Math.
Tom looked at the two old men hopefully, waiting for some constructive ideas.
Grindelwald thought for a moment and offered, "What if we use the Killing Curse? I've got a unique casting method—kill the unicorn first, then 'revive' it afterward. Total control."
Tom's face darkened. "Don't mess with me. I know all about that time you slaughtered a Qilin and tried to trick the International Confederation of Wizards."
"I need a unicorn's recognition and loyalty—not some undead puppet."
Grindelwald's face darkened in return.
Low blow. Uncalled for. Not only had Tom exposed his secret, he'd slapped him right across the face with it.
The Qilin scandal wasn't even Grindelwald's worst crime, but it had been a real headache to clean up. Still, what really stung was how Newt Scamander had ruined everything at the last second—breaking the Blood Pact and freeing Dumbledore to fight him head-on.
Scamander. Damn that little beast-chaser. What a walking disaster.
One rejection down, Tom turned to his last hope—Andros.
Andros cleared his throat. "Easy. Beat it."
Tom blinked. "…What?"
"If once isn't enough, hit it again. And again. Keep going till it sees the light. Eventually, it'll come around."
Tom felt like crying.
One was a dark lord. The other? A brute.
How the hell was he supposed to reform the wizarding world with these two as his mentors?
No better options for now, Tom decided to spar with them for a while instead. He wanted to feel how much stronger he'd become after the fire dragon fusion. After an intense hour of dueling, his consciousness returned to his physical body.
The results were obvious—his spells were significantly more powerful now. Every spell he cast seemed to carry a natural aura of dominance.
That's why fire dragons were the most iconic of all XXXXX-rated magical creatures. Other beasts might be dangerous, sure—but fire dragons didn't just bring destruction. They brought an overwhelming pressure that made anything weaker instinctively bow or flee.
Any creature remotely related to dragons, even lesser variants, were at least XXXX threats.
Now Tom had inherited that very same pressure.
Even without casting a spell, any wizard without a solid mind would start to falter just standing near him. Their focus would waver. Their magic would weaken.
It was a terrifying advantage.
For now, Tom decided to set aside the unicorn issue. He'd dig into the Hogwarts library and see what he could find before making his next move.
Pulling on his gloves, he conjured a set of razor-sharp tools with Transfiguration—and began the careful process of harvesting the fire dragon's remains.
.
.
.
