DZ2'S LOCKDOWN LIBRARY
MASS DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER OR ANY OF ITS ASSOCIATED CHARACTERS: ALL RIGHTS BELONG TO JK ROWLING. I DO NOT OWN ANY CROSSOVERS/CROSSOVER REFERENCES USED THROUGHOUT THIS COMPENDIUM OF IDEAS. ALL RIGHTS BELONG TO THEIR ORIGINAL CREATORS.
So, a HUGE hello and welcome back to all old friends who continued to support me during those damned lockdown months; now, after a LONG time thinking of ideas and losing them and making more mistakes than I can care to count, I decided to collect many of the ideas and nuggets of inspiration I had during lockdown, and in other times, and put them here, in my 'Lockdown Library'
Now, like my 'Den of Delights' this is mostly going to be a collection of starts of ideas, or even plots/ideas that might come somewhere in the middle of an idea that came to me; whether or not I actually write said ideas in full is MY decision and…well, let's just say I hope you can enjoy the fun and the potential within these ideas regardless.
So, with that in mind, let's open the Library and go and check out our first 'book' shall we?
BOOK 1: How To Tickle Your Sleeping Dragon – Harry Potter/How To Train Your Dragon
"Excellent! We now have our three Champions, but in the end, only one can emerge victorious. Only one will be able to lift this Chalice of Champions, this vessel of victory…the Triwizard Cup!"
As applause and celebration became the orders of the day, however, a hush suddenly settled over the Great Hall, accompanied by an air of worry and confusion, as well as alarm, when the collective masses of the students of Hogwarts, Durmstrang and Beauxbatons saw an impossible sight appear before them.
The Goblet of Fire igniting for a fourth time!
As the flames soared into the air, filling the Great Hall with an air of warning magic and alarm that actually had many of the students ducking in fear, many of the staff of the three schools moved to protect their charges, even the usually-stoic Igor Karkaroff and the stern Minerva McGonagall. At the same time, Albus Dumbledore ducked in shock as another burst of fire flew out of the Goblet, his own confusion, disbelief and alarm at this very unusual, if not impossible occurrence, obvious for all to see.
As the Goblet's flames reared up again, Dumbledore watched, as did everyone else, when a single scrap of parchment flew out of the Goblet, drifting through the air as though guided by unseen hands, which led the parchment right into the shaking hand of the Headmaster of Hogwarts.
Once he had a-hold of the parchment, Dumbledore's eyes widened when he saw the name that was written there.
"Harry Potter?"
"What?" asked Minerva, a note of alarm, if not disbelief in her voice as she moved towards her old friend, "What…what did you just say, Albus?"
"Harry…Potter…" repeated Dumbledore, the disbelief in his voice edged by a note of fear and personal pain as he looked up to his colleagues.
"But that's impossible," scowled Severus Snape, his face contorting into a sneer that made him look more-loathsome than ever, if such a thing were even humanly, let alone magically-possible.
However, it was his next words that grabbed the fact of the matter by the short and curlies more than anything else he could have said.
"Potter's been dead for several years now, Headmaster, and if you ask me, we're all the better for him being gone. So, if this is someone's idea of a joke, I can safely say we are not amused!"
HTTYSD
"Welcome…to the…the First Task of the…the Triwizard Tournament."
As Dumbledore let his voice project through the stands, his words seemed as slow and pained as the rest of him had felt over the past few weeks, ever since someone out there had decided to play a cruel joke on the magical world.
A joke that only a select few students had even found amusing, which was more than could be said for the rest of the world, especially once the lovely Miss Skeeter put her own spin on things. For a long while afterwards, Dumbledore's office had become a proverbial minefield against the raging sea of Howlers and poison-quilled reports from the Prophet, as well as the many sniping remarks at the unfortunate cruelty of some people courtesy of his Slytherin Head of House.
As a result of those jibes, however, Severus had been driven away from the Great Hall during mealtimes, if only for his own safety, once Minerva and Filius made it clear what they thought of his cold remarks at the loss that the magical world had suffered nearly ten years ago now.
Come to think of it, the night the Goblet had spat out Harry's name as the Fourth Champion, however it was possible, was ten years, to the day, since Dumbledore had seen the wards around Privet Drive fall, only to arrive in the street and find what could only be described as a raging inferno greeting him.
The smell of the Dursleys' flesh being burned by flames that even seemed too powerful for Dumbledore to douse would haunt Albus for a long time to come, especially when, even after the flames had finally gone out, there were no new reports indicating so much as a remainder of the body of the Magical World's saviour.
From what Dumbledore had heard from Arabella before she'd chosen retirement and made it absolutely clear that she wanted nothing from Albus, not even a check-up on her, nothing had been left of the Dursleys, or Number Four, while most of the other houses on Privet Drive had sustained damage, as had the people living there.
But at least they were fortunate enough to still be alive.
Even so, Dumbledore never forgot the horrors that had greeted him and, although he'd taken it upon himself to erect a headstone next to the poor, unfortunate boy's parents' graves, the guilt had never left Dumbledore for a second.
And now, someone had thought it was funny to make a cruel joke on the tenth anniversary of the tragic loss.
If Albus ever found out who it was, Azkaban would be a paradise compared to what he would push to make happen to them…
HTTYSD
As the darkness of his memories filled his mind, Dumbledore drew in a shaky breath before he continued addressing the spectators.
"And now, to explain the rules of the Task. At the sound of the cannon, our three Champions will attempt to retrieve a golden egg from the nest of a dragon, each of which has been randomly assigned to each Champion for their respective trial. Points will be awarded on time, flair, use of magic and tactics, whereas points will be deducted should any of the other eggs be broken or damaged, as well as lack of survival instinct on the part of our Champions. Regardless, we wish them the very best…"
Before Dumbledore could finish, however, his eyes widened while everyone in the stands suddenly ducked and cried out in alarm as what could only be described as a raging tempest brought on by Zeus himself filled the skies, turning what had been a rare November sunny day into a blackened sky, which seemed to be broken by flashes and bolts of what looked like blue lightning.
As everyone looked up to the heavens, many of them wondering how or where such a terrible storm had come from, a collective gasp of awe, as well as alarm and wonder filled the stands when a large shadow suddenly flew down to the ground, landing in the middle of the arena with an almighty crash, which caused clouds of smoke and dust to kick up around the impact zone.
At the heart of the crash site, however, Albus was more-alarmed to notice a streak of bluish-coloured light shining from within the darkness, which seemed to fill the air with a rippling energy that made many people's hair stand on end.
However, as the dust clouds cleared, the aged Headmaster's eyes widened with renewed awe when he saw what it was that was causing the blue light in the middle of the arena.
It was a dragon!
But it didn't look like any dragon Dumbledore had seen during his travels; for one thing, it was mostly jet-black in colour, save for what looked like a streak of midnight-blue, which seemed to be the source of the light that had shone within the dust storm. The blue streak ran from the head of the dragon, right down along its spine before it came to an end at the dragon's tail.
To Dumbledore's amazement, the dragon also seemed to have two large green eyes, which were thin-slitted and looked up at the wizards around it with an air of warning, judging by how the dragon was hunched over, its black wings flared in a protective, but powerful stance.
"What…what on Earth is that…that beast?" demanded Barty Crouch Senior, his voice edged by horror and disbelief as he pointed a shaking finger at the new dragon. "That…that isn't one of the assigned dragons: where…where did it come from? Someone…Alastor…imprison that beast!"
"Try it and it'll be the last mistake you ever make, human!"
To the shock of the spectators, the new voice seemed to come from a spot behind one of the new dragon's wings; as everyone watched with bated breath, the speaker revealed themselves to be a humanoid figure, whom was covered, head to toe, in what looked like dragon-scale armour, each part of which was streamlined to fit the newcomer's body like a second, protective skin.
Apart from the scaly armour, the newcomer also wore a long, tattered cloak with a hood that, curiously, seemed to resemble the head of the dragon next to them; however, when the stranger lifted their head to meet the eyes of the spectators, many people gasped when they saw two emerald-green orbs that seemed to burn like living fire.
At the same time, the figure removed their hood, revealing a young, male figure whom was remarkably well-tanned in appearance, as well as raven-black-haired, though his hair had some bluish-coloured streaks, just like the colour of the dragon's spine.
As the newcomer glared at the people around him, his voice ripped through each and every one of them like a crash of thunder;
"And, believe me, you humans have made enough stupid mistakes forcing me and my nest to come back to such a disgusting excuse for a country, but, by all means, go ahead and make one more…what is it you say?"
As Dumbledore stared at the newcomer, his eyes widened when, as he met the eyes of the stranger, he caught sight of a very faint streak of white that stuck out on the man's forehead, clearly-visible against the tanned state of his skin, which also took on a scary, disbelieving shape.
A bolt of lightning.
Add in the green eyes, the black hair and the air of power that Dumbledore could feel in those eyes as they stared at him and, as terrifying as the thought was, the old man couldn't help but also feel hope, as well as relief and wonder as he whispered one word.
"Harry…"
To Dumbledore's shock, the man smiled, almost as though he had heard him, before he nodded once, his sly smile never once leaving his face, even as he continued addressing the arena's occupants.
"Oh, yes, now I remember…never tickle a sleeping dragon…well, I should warn you now, humans…I'm really ticklish and a very light sleeper."
Yikes, so we have the first instalment of the Library's records and, well, what needs to be said that might not be obvious already?
This would actually be my first attempt at a crossover between HP and HTTYD and, as you can probably guess, I'd come up with a reason to explain how everyone's favourite Night Fury is still alive – yes, the dragon IS Toothless – not to mention a full explanation of what made our hero what he is.
Anyway, I hope this is just the first taste of a lot of fun samples in the seemingly endless buffet of creativity that I can never really escape.
Now, onto the next book…coming soon!