Hogwarts: Third Dark Lord

Wentworth reached out his hand, intending to stroke the Nibelungen in front of him to mask his awkwardness. However, to his surprise, the Norwegian Ridgeback—who had been so obedient and docile before Gellert Grindelwald—abruptly sidestepped his touch.

Not only that, the dragon locked eyes with Wentworth and let out a deep, menacing growl.

Perplexed, Wentworth asked,

"Grandfather, why does this creature seem… hostile toward me?"

Gellert Grindelwald replied with casual indifference,

"Oh, that's quite normal. Probably because you've been sleeping in its room."

Wentworth: "…???"

At last, Wentworth understood where the gaping hole in the wall had come from.

Seeing the situation, Wentworth quickly offered,

"Perhaps I should change rooms then! I've no intention of fighting a beast over a place to sleep!"

But he had barely finished the sentence when Grindelwald slowly lifted his head, his brow furrowed.

Wentworth's heart sank at the sight of his grandfather's expression—and sure enough, Grindelwald snapped,

"What did you just say?! You're afraid?! Afraid of a pet?!"

Wentworth opened his mouth to explain, but before he could say a word, Grindelwald cut him off:

"I said you'll sleep here, and you will. If you can't even defend your own sleeping quarters, I'll throw you straight out that blasted hole in the wall!"

With that, Grindelwald turned and strode out of the room without waiting for a reply, muttering as he went,

"Careful now—don't kill him."

Flustered, Wentworth called after him,

"Don't worry, Grandfather! I won't go all out!"

But Grindelwald, already heading back to his room, answered without turning:

"I wasn't talking to you."

Wentworth: "…???"

A second later, the Norwegian Ridgeback swung its massive tail toward Wentworth once again.

Dodging the blow, Wentworth drew his wand in a flash.

Humiliated, scorned, and now under attack, Wentworth's rage boiled over like a volcano on the verge of eruption. He glared at the dragon before him and sneered,

"Today, you're going to learn something. From now on, you've got another master to answer to."

He raised his wand, pointing it straight at the dragon's eyes.

"Lumos!"

Wentworth had assumed that such a sudden, point-blank flash would blind the dragon long enough for him to find an opening.

But to his astonishment, the Norwegian Ridgeback instantly tucked in its wings and shielded its head behind them—just as the blinding light finally burst from his wand.

Watching the creature effortlessly counter his spell, Wentworth stood frozen in disbelief.

Then, the dragon slowly lowered its wings. Their eyes met—and Wentworth could swear he saw a flicker of mockery in the beast's gaze.

"You've got to be kidding me… You smug overgrown lizard—"

But before he could finish his sentence, the Ridgeback suddenly arched its neck back, and in a blur of motion, lunged forward—its jaws wide open.

A plume of smoke escaped its maw, and in the next second, a jet of dragonfire surged toward Wentworth.

Luckily, he had anticipated this. The moment the Ridgeback reared its head, Wentworth had already moved—diving and rolling to the side as flames scorched the air where he had stood.

But the dragon wasn't done. With its jaws still wide, the fire followed Wentworth, intent on turning him to ash.

"Aguamenti!"

In an instant, a torrent of water clashed with the dragonfire, filling the room with hissing steam. A thick white mist swallowed the chamber, turning it into a fog-shrouded battlefield.

Within seconds, visibility dropped to zero. As Wentworth paused to catch his breath, claws slashed out of the mist and pinned him to the floor.

"What the—?! It can see me in this fog?! Or did it hear me?!"

Before he could piece it together, the Ridgeback opened its massive jaws once more—this time, directly over his arm.

Wentworth knew that if the dragon sank its fangs into him, he'd be lucky to survive, and even luckier if his dear grandfather had a spell for limb regeneration. Not that he was about to gamble on Grindelwald's kindness.

Worse still, those fangs were venomous.

In desperation, Wentworth pointed his wand at the dragon's unarmored belly—its one vulnerable spot.

"Sectumsempra!"

The spell hit true. Blood sprayed from the dragon's exposed underside, staining its dark scales crimson.

With a deafening roar that shook the walls and nearly ruptured Wentworth's eardrums, the Ridgeback staggered back, then collapsed to the floor in a heap, groaning in agony.

Within seconds, a crimson pool began to spread beneath it.

Wentworth, panting and still lying on the ground, let out a long breath. The fear finally caught up with him, making his limbs tremble.

Just then, Gellert Grindelwald walked back in. He cast a brief glance at Wentworth and said flatly,

"Other than casting spells, you're good for absolutely nothing."

Before Wentworth could respond, Grindelwald moved to the dragon's side. He knelt, placing a hand under its injured belly. A moment later, the Ridgeback stopped moaning—and began to snore.

Only then did Grindelwald rise and look at Wentworth with narrowed eyes.

"If Nibelungen hadn't let its guard down… if it hadn't exposed its vulnerable side before you were completely defenseless, you'd have lost. Badly."

He didn't wait for an answer before continuing, laying into him:

"Lumos? Aguamenti? What are you playing at? This isn't a schoolyard duel! That was a fire-breathing dragon trying to make you its midnight snack!"

"Haven't you learned the Unforgivable Curses yet?!"

Wentworth blinked, confused, then shook his head slowly.

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