Summary:When Harry Potter was 6 years old, he transformed into a dragon in a fit of accidental magic, after being nearly murdered by his relatives, and has been living on a dragon reserve ever since. Now 14, he's been brought to Hogwarts to participate in the first task of the Triwizard tournament. Meanwhile, Hermione Granger, a bullied and friendless fourth year student, has heard rumors of dragons being brought to Hogwarts, and she can't help but visit them. What will Hermione do when she realizes that she has a soul bond with a dragon of all things?
Chapter 1: The Birth of the DragonChapter TextA thin six year old boy with black hair and a lightning bolt scar walked home from school in the snow, being sure to take the long way around in order to avoid his cousin Dudley. He had quickly learned the best route to get home, lest he get beaten up by his cousin and his gang of thugs again.
School had just let out for Christmas break, unfortunately for him, he thought miserably.
Most kids loved Christmas, but not him. But then again, most children came home to loving families who gave them hugs and presents.
All Christmas meant for Harry Potter was extra beatings and being locked in his cupboard until New Years, only being let out to cook Christmas dinner for relatives that despised him. He'd much rather be in school, at least then he was away from home, and was relatively safe.
As he rounded the corner to the street, he saw his uncle Vernon standing at the front door, clearly waiting for him to come home.
Harry hesitated, knowing that whatever his uncle wanted wouldn't be pleasant, but he sighed and decided to just get it over with. It wasn't like he had anywhere else to go. His parents had died in a car crash when he was a baby, leaving him at the mercy of his relatives.
He continued walking and as he got to the front door, couldn't help but notice his uncle's face turning red and he wondered what he'd done to make them mad this time.
"Get in here freak, we need to have a talk" his uncle said, turning into the kitchen as Harry followed, and upon arriving noticed his aunt Petunia and cousin sitting at the kitchen table with 2 pieces of paper lying on the counter.
"Explain yourself" said Vernon through clenched teeth, pointing at the paper. Harry glanced down and nervously noticed that it was his and Dudley's report card.
"It's just a report card" Harry said nervously, wondering what they were so angry about.
He knew his grades couldn't be that bad. He studied and did his best in all of his classes, even going as far as asking for extra credit assignments, always hoping that if he did well enough, his relatives might finally accept him. It never worked, but it didn't stop him from trying.
"And how do you explain your grades being so much better than our Dudley's, huh freak?" Petunia said waspishly. She was positive her nephew couldn't possibly be smarter than her precious son Dudley, whose grades were below average at best. Harry froze as he felt fear grip him. He'd never considered the possibility that his relatives could be angry at him for doing well in school, although it shouldn't have surprised him as they'd often beat him and locked him up for things that weren't his fault, such as the one time his uncle blamed him for causing him to miss out on a promotion at work, and had proceeded to beat him to near unconsciousness before locking him in his cupboard.
"I study more, and actually pay attention in class." Harry supplied hesitantly, dreading the beating he was now sure would be coming.
"A likely story," Vernon said, grabbing Harry by arm and twisting it behind his back as Harry gasped in pain, trying desperately to pull away, "but everyone here knows the truth. You've been using your freakishness on all of us ordinary people so that you can cheat your way to the top! Well I for one am through having you here you little shit. If you are going to keep acting like a freak, then we'll just have to beat it out of you" he said maliciously, shoving him into the wall and causing him to hit his head hard enough that he heard a crack. Harry looked up to the wall and noticed that there was blood on the wall where he'd hit his head.
Harry remained quiet however, having learned by the time he turned 3 that crying out only resulted in more pain, like the time he screamed when his aunt Petunia hit him with a hot frying pan, only for Vernon to then beat him for attracting attention from the neighbors.
Vernon continued to beat him, kicking him hard in his chest, causing him to gasp for breath as he laid, curled into a ball on the bloody kitchen floor silently crying, still refusing to cry out despite the pain.
These people were supposed to be taking care of him, he thought. Rage coursed its way through him even as he lay there taking his uncles continuous blows. How dare they. He was just a child. They didn't treat Dudley this way!
His chest tightened as he thought about all the things his relatives had done to him over the years. His parents may have been drunks, but he was sure they hadn't wanted this for him. This was all he'd ever known, but there was something deep inside him that told him that there was something better out there waiting for him. He felt a burning sensation deep within him, starting inside his chest and rapidly expanding outwards. His scar burst with pain and he felt his bones begin to crack and grind together as they shifted.
He began to scream, satisfying his uncle as The pain was excruciating and his body felt like it was being ripped apart.
He must have passed out, because the next thing he knew his pain was mostly gone and he was running down the street on four legs, the still burning remains of Privet drive lighting up the sky behind him.
He continued running, scared and confused, unsure of what was happening to him and what he was supposed to do. He quickly took a left, running between the surrounding houses and entering the forest, scaring a small dog half to death in the process. On the one hand he was quite happy to get away from the Durseys, but he was also frightened.
His relatives were cruel, and he'd never had this much freedom before. As night began to fall, he continued to run, and after what must have been hours he stumbled upon a small cave in the forest, with a small pool of standing water nearby. It was dark now, he knew, but even though there was no moon, he could still see quite well despite the darkness. His leg muscles ached from all the running as the adrenalin began to wear off.
He approached the pool of water, hoping to at least have a drink and immediately noticed his reflection in the water, for the first time he realized that he wasn't human anymore. Staring slack jawed back at him was the reflection of what could only be described as a dragon. He had a large black body with 2 horns poking out the top of his skull. How could this happen? Dragons weren't real, were they? It scared him, because he knew in all of the stories he'd read, dragons were vicious creatures who were usually killed by a knight. He didn't want to hurt anyone. He continued to think about it, wondering what he would do now? Would he be locked up in a zoo like an animal? What would he do for food?
He didn't want to be killed, or hurt anyone, but he definitely couldn't go back to his relatives house like this, not that he'd want to even if he wasn't currently a 3 meter long dragon. He had no interest in the beating he was sure to get for running away.
He laid down in the cave and curled into a ball, wondering what he was going to do now that he was a dragon. It was likely that no one would look for him, especially not his relatives.
He noticed that his vision was getting blurry, and it was then that he remembered his head injury. His head was throbbing from where it was slammed into the wall by his uncle. He felt quite dizzy. As he closed his eyes and began to fall iinto unconsciousness, the last thing he heard was a loud noise that sounded vaguely like a car backfiring, and a voice that began talking nearby.
Hogwarts Headmasters Quarters, December 19th, 1986 Midnight
Albus Dumbledore awoke with a start from his bed connected to the headmasters office of Hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry as he felt the blood wards he'd placed crumble.
He immediately got dressed and apparated to Privet Drive, wondering what in Merlin's name could have happened. He was well aware that Harry's relatives weren't the best of people, but he considered death eaters a bigger threat.
Albus also knew that if he was going to one day manipulate him into sacrificing himself for the wizarding world, the boy would need to be meek, with as little emotional attachments as possible. The less he had to keep him from his destiny, the better.
As he arrived, he immediately realized that something had gone horribly wrong. He was shocked as he stared at what remained of the modest three bedroom home. All that remained were just smoldering ruins of what had once been the home of the savior of the wizarding world.
Albus was shaken.
He knew the death eaters couldn't be responsible, as the wards hadn't been triggered, but he could also tell that this was no normal house fire.
As he began to sift through the ruins of the house using the elder wand, he was able to magically determine that the house had been destroyed almost instantly, and that there had been four people inside the home when it went up in flames, though whatever had remained of the bodies had long been turned to ash by this point.
He knew it would have been impossible for anyone to have survived.
He assumed it must have been fiendfyre, as the only other fire that could have done this amount of damage this quickly was dragonfire, and the idea of a dragon being on Privet drive was laughable at best.
He quickly began to memory charm the muggles that had gathered in the street, so that they wouldn't question the speed at which the flames had consumed the building.
He needed to go inform the minister, and come up with a plan. He'd need to keep this quiet and away from the press if he had any hope of surviving the storm. If the public found out that he'd killed their savior, he'd be crucified in Diagon Alley.
Harry Potter was dead.
A Forest in England, 80 Miles South of Surrey, December 19th 1986
Aaron Weathers had been working on a Romanian dragon preserve for nearly 30 years and was considered an expert on all things dragon, from physiology to breeding.
He'd been quite surprised when the ministry had requested for him to come to England to search for a juvenile dragon that had been sighted by muggles, forcing them to obliviate nearly 30 people in the process.
There weren't many, if any, wild dragons in England, leaving him to wonder just where this dragon had come from. He knew that it needed to be contained quickly and quietly.
It wouldn't do for someone to get hurt, or the statute of secrecy to be broken.
Public sightings of dragons were always much harder to keep quiet than other magical creature incidents as they were large and often took up to 15 dragon handlers to bring down an adult dragon. This was risky, as the longer it took, the higher the chance of a lucky muggle snapping a photo, which meant even more work for the obliviators..
He and his partner landed their brooms, looking around the area his tracking charm had led him to.
They had finally tracked the beast down to this forest, using magical techniques to identify the trail it had followed at first, and then switching to follow the ample blood trail the dragon had left behind as it appeared to be heavily wounded.
As they entered under a disillusionment charm, he was surprised to see that the dragon was heavily injured and appeared to be unconscious, with blood leaking from a wound on its head and large bruises along its torso. "Poor thing" he whispered to himself. He quietly wondered what could had happened that caused it to end up in this state.
Perhaps a fight with a larger dragon, or maybe even poachers, he thought. He knew poachers would love to capture a dragon of this breed, especially a juvenile such as this, as they were quite rare and valuable. If that was the case, then it'd be best for him to move this one back to the reserve so that it could begin to heal in peace.
"Slip it a sleeping potion and restrain it," he whispered to his partner, "We'll have to use a portkey to get it to the reserve, and we definitely don't want it waking up halfway through."
Meanwhile in Crawley, a young girl with bushy brown hair awoke from a strange dream about a black dragon with glowing green eyes and a lightning bolt scar.