Flames of the Soul: A Harry Potter Fan Fiction
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of its associated characters: all rights belong to JK Rowling. I do not own any crossover references used in the story: all rights belong to their original creators. I do own any OC spells explained at the end of a chapter.
Plot: What does it mean when one of the most-ferocious breeds of dragons willingly bows down to a fourteen year old boy? If you're human, nothing good if you choose to stand in his way, but if you're dragon, it means so much more.
Author's Note: So, here's an odd little idea I sort of pulled out of the cobweb-infested areas of my mind where ideas I came up with, but never had the nerve to create officially are stored. Admittedly, this one is probably going to be one of my own personal favourite for one simple reason. Want to know what that is? One word: dragons!
Anyway, I hope you enjoy the adventure as much as I definitely plan on enjoy writing it, but, as always, you know what I always say:
If you don't like it, don't read it.
Dedication: I'd like to dedicate this story to Different Dimension Demon for giving me the final shot of inspiration I needed to make this a reality: my recommended reads are Watch the skies by Different Dimension Demon, Order of the Dragon by mindofemmette, The Dragonmasters by Naia, On Black Wings by Darkscythe Drake, Little Dragon by FCTSyndrome, The Rise of the Drackens by Starlight Massacre, There Be Dragons, Harry by Scioneeris, A Magical Sense by CenturionAfricanus and Saviour of Magic by Colt01
Key Pairing: Eventual Harry/Katie;
Other Pairings: To be confirmed
Chapter 1: One Boy, One Dragon
"Three of our champions have faced their dragons and so, each one will proceed to the next Task. And now, our fourth and final contestant."
Even as Harry made his way out of the tent and into the main arena where he would face the wrath and challenge of the Hungarian Horntail, he felt his heart grow cold with tension, fear and dread as he considered what he was about to try.
Reaching the entrance to the stadium, Harry was dimly-aware of the fact that something akin to dead silence suddenly filled the stands around the outside of the arena. As he walked into the line of sight of his friends, allies, classmates and even his rivals, Harry took a moment to look at them, a part of him surprised to notice more than half of those who'd called him liar and traitor were now looking at him and the arena with worry, fear and a small amount of hope that he'd get out of this alive.
Personally, Harry shared their concerns and queries, though as he looked along the sea of faces, he was also aware of a prickling sensation rising up the back of his neck. For the tiniest of moments, Harry felt like he wanted to run or to try and get out of this craziness, but as he stood there, the hairs on his neck now standing on end, he also noticed more than a few faces were no longer looking at him.
Rather, they were now looking behind him and, even without turning, Harry knew what it was they were looking at. He could feel the faint whispers of hot air on the back of his neck and, for a while now, he'd felt the heat filling him, although, at the time, he'd thought that was just because of his heartbeat racing at a rate of impossible miles per hour.
"Well," whispered Harry, licking his lips as he slowly drew his wand from his robe, "Here goes…"
With that, he turned to face his dragon, the Hungarian Horntail, the worst of the worst as far as the Champions' dragons were concerned, but, after Hagrid had revealed the dragons to Harry, he'd also learned that the Horntail was one of the most-dangerous breeds of dragon in the world, if not the most-dangerous, period.
And just by looking at it, with its lizard-like appearance, black scales, spiked/horned tail and fierce eyes, Harry could see why.
Just beyond the Horntail's large physique, he could also see the nest, which contained the golden egg that he'd need to acquire for the next task, but given the fact that one of the most-dangerous breeds of dragon stood between him and it, Harry wasn't in too much of a hurry to move.
Instead, keeping his wand in his hand, Harry gulped before, flicking his wand, he whispered, "Accio Firebolt…"
The truth was, he didn't know if whispering the spell would work, but his voice was so frozen up in his throat that the most he could muster was a mere rasp or a squeak. He also didn't want to take his eyes off of the large predator that stood in front of him, though, as Harry cast his spell, he was a little surprised to notice something else that seemed odd right now.
Ever since seeing him, the Hungarian Horntail hadn't made any attempts to move towards him, let alone unleash fire, fangs or ferocity upon him.
Instead, it remained where it stood, its nostrils flared for only a moment before, as Harry dared to look away, he gasped, as did everyone else, when the Horntail lifted itself up, revealing the full size and girth of the dangerous beast. For a brief moment, Harry felt a need to run, if not get out of the way of the dragon, but, to the astonishment of every single man, woman and child in the stadium, most of all, Harry himself, the need was soon dashed when the Horntail moved its head forwards…
And then spread its wings wide before it bowed to Harry!
The head of the ferocious-looking creature bowed so low that the base of its jawline brushed the stones on the floor of the stadium while, as Harry looked, unsure of what was going on or what he was meant to do in response to this, he heard a small, low growl ripple out of the Horntail's throat.
However, while everyone else heard a growl, Harry's eyes widened when he heard a deep, but eerily-soft, mystically-toned voice speak to him.
Suddenly, a feeling of déjà vu took hold of Harry as he stared at the Horntail: he didn't know why, but he felt his legs move him towards the beautiful beast – and yes, as odd as it sounded, a part of Harry's mind did think her beautiful – while he held up a hand. He didn't tremble, he didn't quiver and he didn't back down; instead, he advanced on the Horntail until, to the shock of the spectators, Harry found his hand pressed to the skull of the scaled creature, who seemed to purr as she felt Harry's touch.
As if that wasn't weird enough, however, Harry then heard a voice that sounded like his, but was edged by a note of raw, primal fury and magical force that laced each syllable as he spoke, /Great Mother, I mean you and your children no harm. I merely seek a treasure that is not yours to keep. Allow me to retrieve it and I swear by Mother Magic that your children shall come to no harm./
/My nest is yours, Sire,/ replied the strange voice, a female voice, which Harry had suspected since this was a Mother Dragon, but while he came to the revelation, he also gasped when the Horntail's otherworldly voice told him, /I am proud to give my nest and my children to you, Sire. Take what you wish of them and I; our scales…our flames…our hearts, if you so wish. We shall gladly give, knowing we shall burn with Draco for this loyal service to the Dragonlord./ (1)
/Dragonlord?/ asked Harry, but before he could get an answer, he gasped when he felt something hard and firm collide with his hand; looking down, Harry's eyes widened as he saw his broom, his Firebolt, had flown to him as he'd commanded it to.
And yet, from the looks of things, he no longer had any need of it; instead, while he chose to keep hold of his broom, Harry also petted the Horntail's snout while he slowly, carefully and respectfully walked around her large girth. Once he was close to the Horntail's nest, he carefully reached over and snagged the golden egg from the nest, holding it high in the air as though it were a trophy.
However, instead of wild applause, there was only stunned silence, save for the rolling growls of the Horntail as she too reached over, snaking her long neck and head past Harry. As he watched, the Horntail turned back to him before, to his shock, she let out a cough that sent a few embers flying into Harry's face.
And yet, they did not burn him: instead, much like the tongue baths of a loyal dog, Harry couldn't help but laugh as he wafted the smoke from his face before he said, "Thank you, dear lady."
With that, he turned and left the nest; as he did so, however, Harry gasped when the Horntail cried, /Sire, please wait!/
Turning back, Harry watched with awe as the Horntail lifted what looked like the smallest of her eggs, but when she did so, Harry was a little curious as well as a little stunned to notice that this egg didn't look like the others. Instead of dull-grey colours and stony features that reminded him of a stony pebble, this egg was pure-silver in colour and ridged like diamonds, yet surprisingly-smooth to the touch.
In a way, Harry thought it was like touching ice in his hands, but as he wondered about it, he looked up again as the Horntail told him, /I bore this egg just before I came to this human nest, but I was not aware of its life growing with my clutch. However, I believe Mother Magic gave me this rare gift so that I could bestow it unto you, Dragonlord. So please, take my treasured hatchling…and my thanks for your mercy./
Inclining his head in return, Harry walked out of the arena, unaware of the fact that, as he left, everyone else in the stadium gasped with awe and wonder as they saw the Horntail lift her head to the skies before she unleashed a powerful burst of flame into the air.
From where they were being watched over by the dragon keepers, the Chinese Fireball, the Swedish Short-Snout and the Welsh Green released similar flames, each of which danced in the air like fireworks before they dissipated into nothingness in the clutch of the wind.
And yet, throughout the awe-inspiring display, not one member of any of the schools' student bodies knew what they were meant to say.
But by the time they did so, it was clear to almost every single one of them that something else had come to Hogwarts that year.
After all, what else could make a fully-grown dragon, let alone a Hungarian Horntail, bow down before him, offer her nest to him and bestow a dragon's egg onto him and yet do nothing to harm, disembowel or even eat him for attacking the nest?
Some of them wondered how such a thing was possible.
Others, however, came to a decision about what they'd just seen;
'Do not go up against Harry Potter.'
So, a mystifying beginning and it looks like Harry's not exactly what he seems to be, but how and why did that dragon bow to him, calling him things like Sire and Dragonlord?
What is the Dragonlord and how is Harry it? Could it have anything to do with that unusual egg among the Horntail's clutch?
Keep Reading to Find Out
Next Chapter: Harry's got questions, but he's not the only one; fortunately, someone associated with those whom are meant to be his friends offers more than just answers while said friends try and repair the burned, broken bridges, but is it too late? Especially after what everyone just saw happen in the arena?
Please Read and Review
The term 'Dragonlord' was originally used in the BBC's Merlin series and, although I might draw examples, references and similarities between that and other Dragon-involved fandoms – e.g. the Horntail talking about Draco was inspired by the legend of the constellation from the Dragonheart series – I can assure everyone that this is not a crossover with anything;