Chapter 238: "The Dragon Rider"

As the Hungarian Horntail unleashed a torrent of flame towards the panicked crowd, Harry's wand slashed through the air. With a thunderous rumble, massive concrete walls erupted from the ground, intercepting the inferno mere feet from the spectators.

The searing heat dissipated against the hastily conjured barrier, leaving behind scorched stone and a moment of stunned silence.

Harry's mind raced. He knew he couldn't engage the dragon here, not without risking countless lives. The spells required to subdue such a beast would be too dangerous in these close quarters.

No, he needed to lead it away, to draw the battle to a safer location where he could unleash his full power without fear of collateral damage.

With a flick of his wand, Harry pointed towards the distant silhouette of Hogwarts castle. "Accio Firebolt!" he commanded, his voice carrying the urgency of the moment.

While waiting for his broom, Harry conjured a flock of ravens, their midnight feathers glinting in the sunlight as they took flight. With another wave of his wand, he sent them to harass and distract the enraged Horntail, buying precious seconds.

Around him, chaos reigned supreme. Dragon handlers rushed forward, their wands out and face set with grim determination, but their usual tools seemed ineffective against the dragon's unbridled fury.

Professors herded terrified students away from the danger, their faces etched with worry and resolve. The air was thick with the acrid smell of smoke and the tang of fear.

The distinctive whoosh of his Firebolt pierced the cacophony of screams and roars. Harry leapt astride the broom with practiced ease, kicking off hard from the ground. He soared to eye level with the Horntail, unleashing a barrage of stinging hexes.

The spells, harmless against the dragon's armored hide, nonetheless captured its attention, yellow eyes narrowing as they fixed on Harry. The human who had annoyed her a few minutes ago.

What followed was a dizzying dance around the dragon's massive form. Harry weaved through the air with the grace of a seasoned Quidditch player, ducking between the Horntail's legs, looping around its thrashing tail, always just out of reach.

The dragon's frustration grew with each near miss, its focus narrowing solely on the elusive wizard who dared to challenge it.

Sensing the moment was right, Harry shot upwards, climbing higher and higher into the azure sky. The dragon hesitated for a split second, then with a thunderous beat of its wings that sent tremors through the air, gave chase. They climbed higher and higher, leaving the safety of the ground far below, the stadium shrinking to the size of a toy.

Now began a deadly aerial ballet that would have left even the most seasoned broom flyer breathless. Harry corkscrewed and dove, the dragon's fiery breath singeing the tail of his broom. He led the beast away from Hogwarts, out over the Forbidden Forest, all the while formulating his next move.

As they flew, Harry realized brute force wouldn't win this battle. The dragon, though enraged, was a magnificent creature deserving of respect. He needed to calm it and connect with it without causing it much injury.

But first, Harry knew he needed to assert his dominance, to show the dragon that he was not prey, but a force to be reckoned with. Before calming it down a beating to show Harry's strength might be necessary.

Once they were a safe distance from Hogwarts and away from prying eyes, Harry did something unexpected. He stopped his Firebolt mid-air and dismounted, floating effortlessly in the sky. With a casual wave of his hand, Harry sent his broom soaring away to safety.

The dragon halted its pursuit, clearly confused by this strange human who could fly without aid. Its yellow eyes narrowed, trying to make sense of what it was seeing. Steam curled from its nostrils as it regarded Harry with a mixture of curiosity and wariness.

Harry, drawing on the strength he'd gained as a knight and the flying ability he'd gleaned from Voldemort's memories, hovered confidently before the massive beast. He raised his hands, a smirk playing on his lips as he taunted the dragon.

"Come on then," Harry called out, his voice carrying on the wind. "Let's see what you've got!"

The Horntail, enraged by this audacious challenge, charged forward with a roar that seemed to shake the very heavens. Harry met its charge head-on, his fist connecting squarely with the dragon's nose.

The impact was tremendous, the sound of the collision echoing across the sky. But Harry found himself flung backward, tumbling through the air before regaining control.

He had underestimated the dragon's strength. Despite being seven to eight times stronger than a normal adult from the years of training with the Knight breathing method, Harry realized he was outmatched in raw power against an adult dragon. Direct confrontation wasn't the answer, but he was far from defeated.

Undeterred, Harry flew towards the dragon for another attempt. The Horntail breathed a massive gout of flame, a river of fire that threatened to engulf him. But Harry was ready. With a wandless gesture, he summoned a powerful gust of wind, redirecting the inferno harmlessly into the sky.

As the dragon recovered from its breath attack, Harry seized the opportunity. He rushed in, delivering a powerful uppercut that rocked the Horntail's head back. The dragon's eyes rolled in its head, momentarily stunned by the force of the blow.

And so began a true aerial battle, the likes of which had never been seen in the wizarding world. The dragon attacked relentlessly, snapping with its massive jaws that could crush stone, breathing streams of fire hot enough to melt steel, and lashing out with its spiked tail that whistled through the air.

Harry dodged and weaved, using wandless wind spells to maneuver and deflect the flames. He threw in occasional thunder spells, using the loud cracks to disorient the beast and mask his movements.

Harry's fists found their mark again and again, each blow enhanced by his knight's strength. But the dragon's hide was tough, like hitting a wall of living stone, and its stamina seemed endless. For every successful hit, Harry had to avoid a dozen potentially lethal attacks.

The fight stretched on, a dizzying dance of man versus beast high above the earth. Sweat poured down Harry's face, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he pushed himself to his limits and beyond. His muscles screamed in protest with each movement, but he refused to give in.

The dragon, too, showed signs of fatigue, its attacks becoming less coordinated, its body marked with bruises from Harry's relentless assault.

As both combatants hovered, catching their breath, Harry knew he needed a new strategy. Brute force alone wouldn't win this fight. He could have had an easier fight if he had his sword with him but that was put away since he could not bring anything to the task and the sword was not something he could summon with a simple summoning charm.

Harry had to fight with what he had. He did not have the stamina to outlast the dragon, as impressive as his endurance was. He needed to connect with the dragon, to calm it, to show it that he was not the one to be messed with.

With a wave of his hand, Harry conjured a makeshift saddle on the dragon's back, the magic shimmering as it took form. The Horntail eyed this new development warily, smoke curling from its nostrils. But before it could react, Harry had maneuvered himself onto its back with a burst of speed that surprised even the dragon.

The Horntail bucked and rolled, desperate to dislodge its unwelcome passenger. It climbed higher into the sky, then plummeted towards the earth in a dizzying dive. It barrel-rolled and looped, its movements so violent that any normal wizard would have been thrown off in seconds. But Harry held fast, his grip unyielding, his determination unshakeable. Minutes stretched into what felt like hours as man and beast struggled for dominance in the sky.

Gradually, almost imperceptibly at first, the dragon's movements became less frantic. Exhaustion and hunger began to take their toll on the mighty beast. Seizing the opportunity, Harry spoke, his voice calm despite the exertion of the battle.

"Have you had enough? You should know I have not really used any spells to attack since I don't want to cause severe injuries to you. Do you want me to go all out?"

However, even if the dragon understood Harry's words, it gave no sign. It began another round of attempts to dislodge Harry from its back, though its movements lacked their earlier ferocity.

Harry tried again, but this time, struck by sudden inspiration, he spoke in Parseltongue, the language of serpents.

The change was immediate and dramatic. The Horntail's head swiveled, yellow eyes fixing on Harry with newfound interest. Though the dragon couldn't reply, Harry sensed it understood, a flicker of intelligence passing between them.

Harry hissed in the serpentine language, his words carrying a hint of threat. "I don't want to hurt you badly, but I am losing my patience. You know how I got my ability to speak in this tongue? I killed a thousand-year-old basilisk to gain this power. Do you want to follow in its footsteps? I hear dragon hide sells at a very good price."

To drive his point home, Harry did something next that made the Horntail more afraid than it had ever been in its life. He got off the dragon's back and, in mid-air, transformed into his Animagus form: a thunderbird. The massive bird, almost three-quarters the size of the dragon, spread its wings wide. Lightning crackled between its feathers, and storm clouds began to gather around them.

This display of power was the final straw. The fight drained out of the Horntail, replaced by a wary respect for the wizard on its back.

Now that the dragon had calmed, Harry summoned his broom back and guided the Horntail towards Hogwarts. As they approached the school grounds, Harry first directed it towards Hagrid's pumpkin patch, where he knew a flock of sheep was kept for the dragons' meals.

Harry motioned for the dragon to have its fill. A combination of punishment and rewards, he knew, was the best way to improve obedience. The Horntail feasted, its aggressive demeanor melting away with each bite, replaced by a contentment that seemed almost comical on such a fearsome creature.

The sight that greeted them was one of astonishment. It had been a couple of hours since Harry had led the dragon away, but the stadium was still surrounded by people. They were ready for battle, wands drawn and spells on their lips, but the sight of Harry calmly perched on the back of the now-docile Horntail stopped them in their tracks.

Students, professors, and handlers alike stared open-mouthed as Harry guided the Horntail to a gentle landing. As handlers rushed forward with chains, Harry held up a hand, his voice carrying across the hushed crowd. "There's no need for those," he called out. "I'll lead her to the forest myself. She's calm now and will follow my instructions."

Dumbledore stepped forward, his blue eyes twinkling with a mixture of relief and intense curiosity. "Well done, Mr. Potter," he said softly, his voice carrying a hint of awe. "Your quick actions have averted a tragedy. If you would, can you tell me how you subdued the Horntail?"

Harry smiled enigmatically. "Sorry, Professor, that is between the dragon and me," he replied. "However, I can tell you it was a fierce fight, which you can already tell from the appearance of both of us."

Indeed, both Harry and the dragon bore the marks of their epic battle. Harry's robes were singed and torn, his hair windswept and his face smudged with soot. The Horntail's scales, usually gleaming, were dulled with exhaustion, and bruises were visible where Harry's blows had landed.

Dumbledore was not satisfied with this answer, but he knew their relationship was not close enough for him to press the issue. Perhaps, he hoped, Harry would tell the story to others, and he could learn the details through them. The elder Potter was shocking him more and more. Strong magic and dueling skills were already known, but it would take more to subdue a dragon. To kill with magic was one thing, but to subdue required tricks and skills beyond mere power. It looked like he would have to pay more attention to the elder Potter.

Dumbledore had thought he knew enough about Harry, but today's events showed how much he had underestimated the young man.

Harry could sense Dumbledore's wheels turning, formulating new plans and strategies. But Harry was not concerned. He was not someone who could be controlled or directed now. If Dumbledore tried anything untoward, Harry knew he had the means to send the old wizard on to his next great adventure. He already had an easy way for that, involving a certain cursed ring hidden in a ruined shack.

As Harry led the Horntail away, the crowd parted before them, a mixture of awe and fear on their faces. Students whispered excitedly, already embellishing the tale of Harry's battle with the dragon.

As Harry disappeared into the Forbidden Forest with his new draconic ally, he couldn't help but smile. The Triwizard Tournament had only just begun, and he might have already scared away his fellow champions. They were competing with someone who had subdued a dragon.