Chapter 2: The start of it all
A/N: Thanks for the reviews so far, especially the advice received. The next chapter is almost written and will be uploaded before the weekend. Updates after should be weekly but definitely a chapter a fortnight.
Confusion…. It shined through the dominant fear. The dragon had gone berserk, but in its madness, the screaming had scared him. Ravings about a prophecy and how the boy Saviour would fall. His blood had gone cold, but the most startling change… his eyes had started to glow! Blood flowed from his mangled shoulder and pooled around his feet on the edge of the stony nest.
And then, as he looked up at the crowd, the cages for the other dragons exploded outwards amidst the roars of the three.
Harry spun, diving back into the air, narrowly missing a jet of fire as he rolled under the raised tail of the Welsh green, spikes grazing his hair. He weaved through the Chinese fireballs legs, before a talon from the short snout swiped him out of the air.
He lay there on the ground, bleeding from his shoulder, surrounded by blood drunk dragons, roaring at the fallen Saviour.
The crowd was screaming, the teachers furiously casting spells at the ward dome. Dumbledore's wand a blur, until he almost dropped it as the strangled sob escaped his lips.
The dragons had stopped roaring. Their eyes cold, locked onto Harry. They reared back, and each unleashed a fiery torrent directly at the prone boy. Stone cracked and melted under the furnace like heat. The noise echoing around the silent crowd who stared on, unable to believe that their hero was dying in front of them. They kept staring as the fire subsided to reveal a melted crater in the middle of the arena.
A mocking laugh echoed around the stadium, only to end in some splutters, as Lucius Malfoy elbowed his son. The Gryffindor gazed at the crater, expecting the boy who had survived everything else to rise again.
Pain was all he felt… his scar and chest burned with pain. Thoughts were scattered, torn apart by the waves of agony. His back arched, he felt like his chest was exploding as waves of fresh pain lanced out. The lightning scar had burst, black ooze mingled with blood as it poured down his face. The pain started to fade, replaced by a surge of ice. His shoulder was stitched back together, the tips of his hair turned gold, and his eyes formerly scrunched up, relaxed and shone with an almost ethereal glow as the strange power burst forward.
The golden wave blew out from the crater, startling all the crowd by throwing the dragons through the air. The smallest, the short snout, crashed into the ward dome splintering it. The audience scrambled as the light approached, scared the dome wouldn't hold, as the wave crashed into it in a shower of sparks and small explosions. The dragons were floundering, trying to right themselves, cries of agony echoing through the stands.
Dumbledore's tears streamed freely still, an expression of hope upon his features as he looked on at the sheer power displayed. His thoughts flickering through long lost tomes written by ancient sorcerers who manipulated the strongest of elements. The lost sorcerers who were there in the darkest hours of humanity, powers beyond belief, believed to be the gods of old.
The dragons, understood by a lone figure on the grounds of Hogwarts, roared their cries, their desperation to prevent the rise of the sorcerers once more. They once more reared to unleash a fiery torrent into the crater, when a blur of black light shot out of the crater and speared through the three dragons. Their mouths open in preparation for their flames… they fell, blood pouring from their severed necks in horrific testimony to Sir Nicholas. Behind them as they fell, stood a boy. Messy black hair tipped with gold, emerald eyes ablaze with light surveyed the crowd, meeting a pair of azure orbs in the midst of all. Before he crumpled, as if his strings were cut, ignorant of the sudden explosion of noise centred around the minister's box.
Dumbledore was pushing his way out of the judge's booth, desperately trying to get to his charge. When he heard the shrieks of the ministerial toad. He turned briefly to deflect a spell from her wand, before he heard her words.
"Dumbledore! Arrest Dumbledore! Aurors arrest him for cheating in the triwizard tournament!"
At first nobody moved, all eyes watched the wand of Dumbledore or stared in shock at Umbridge. Silence reigned supreme, until a member of the Minister's personal guard, believing he could surprise Dumbledore threw an orange spell down from the box. Pandemonium erupted as Dumbledore blurred into motion. His was sped through intricate movements lost from the modern teachings, spell shields popped into existence, deflecting the hastily thrown jinxes from the Aurors. His skills on display for everyone to see never fazed him as he brutally dispatched Aurors with powerful stunners preceded by bludgeoners to shatter shields or swarms of airborne insects designed to cause panic. His only thought was to reach his adopted grandson, to protect the boy that he viewed as family. Fear flared in his chest as he remembered the last time this happened, his sister Arianna. She had died because he wasn't quick enough. His black thoughts spurred him on even faster, twelve Aurors had fallen so far, with the remaining four desperately dodging his spells as they reluctantly fought on. They jumped on the opening they were given as Dumbledore's spells stopped, throwing stunners at the elderly warlock. They never saw them fizzle out on Dumbledore's robes, as the earth rose up flinging them into the air, before the earthen first caught them slamming them into the ground, knocking them out.
The Minister port keyed out, purple face putting Vernon Dursley to shame as Dumbledore rushed into the arena, falling to his knees beside the motionless boy. Madame Pomphrey was narrowly ahead of the other teachers as she started her diagnostics, Snape pulling potions out of his robes as the results flashed up.
Sweat glistened on Poppy's face as she launched spell after spell into the unresponsive child before a light brown one caused him to shudder and his chest to start the familiar rise and fall routine, none noticed the small changes as the golden white colour of his hair spread ever so slowly.
His weak breathing acted like a trigger, Dumbledore released a breath he was holding and Snape fell back off his knees. All three teachers visibly relaxed as the tension left them. Fawkes appeared at a mental command, and flashed all of them to the hospital wing.
The infirmary that night, was guarded by patrolling teachers, and a crossbow wielding half giant wrapped in furs. Hundreds of students had pushed their way into the corridor as rumours flew around that the boy who lived had died after performing yet another impossible feat of magic. Spells had been exchanged as arguments about what happened got heated. Believers in the ministry proclaimed the use of dark magic or Dumbledore interfering. Those who had quietly supported Harry during his forced exclusion, stepped up and defended their friend, trying to atone for being part of that abandonment before. But the loudest voice decrying Harry's actions, came from a red headed 4th year. Ron Weasley was seething, his former best mate had it all. Wealth, fame and now immeasurable power. He could get any girl he wanted, but he, Ron Weasley, had nothing. No money, no special talents, the girl he wanted was busy worrying over the prat who lived, and his only claim to fame was he was Harry's best mate. His shouts of Harry cheating, and using dark magic convinced many people who didn't know Harry that he was. A new record was set that night as the Potion Master and Transfiguration mistress, both deducted hundreds of points, forcing all four houses into the negative for the first time in Hogwarts history.
So that night after the first task, saw Harry Potter asleep in the end bed of the hospital wing, a brass name plaque above his bed. A sleepy half giant, leaning on the wall outside and a shadowed figure sneaking through the hospital doors.
Sirius Black, grew out of the shadows next to Harry's bed. Staring down at his sleeping godson, his eyes brimmed with tears.
"Never again Harry. I'll never leave you again. I made a promise to your parents that I'd be here for you when they weren't. I made a mistake 14 years ago and it cost you. I never really thought about what it cost you until tonight. You grew up in hell, but I'll never let you go back there again."
In the shadows of the hospital wing, the oath made by a wanted criminal, was heard by his godson who slowly turned in his sleep, his breathing became softer, his features relaxed almost as if the words, no matter how softly spoken, had chased his nightmares away. He shifted some more as a black dog lay down to watch over him and the night, his sleep more peaceful now than ever before.