Hogwarts: Third Dark Lord

In the days that followed, Wentworth found himself swept into a whirlwind of activity. By day, he studied spells under the warm, if formidable, guidance of his grandfather. By night, he wrestled for sleeping space with a Norwegian Ridgeback.

The daylight hours were bearable, nothing more than a one-sided thrashing, which Wentworth took in stride. After all, it wasn't every day one had the honor of being pummelled by Gellert Grindelwald.

Countless wizards all over the world would give anything for such an opportunity.

But at night, the real ordeal began, competing with a dragon for a place to sleep was something Wentworth absolutely could not abide.

During the first few nights, every evening brought a fierce clash between Wentworth and Grindelwald's Norwegian Ridgeback. And it quickly became clear why dragons so often appear as final bosses in ancient legends and fairytales—there's a reason for it.

The dragon, having been bested once, never made the same mistake again. As their nightly skirmishes continued, Wentworth realized that this creature, sitting atop the magical food chain, was anything but dull. The same tricks never worked twice.

Faced with this, Wentworth had no choice but to rely on his wand, and on everything he'd learned from Grindelwald during the day.

Although their battles initially ended in stalemates, each night gave Wentworth the chance to test his new spells on the Ridgeback. Little by little, he began to gain the upper hand. And after a week of ceaseless struggle, he finally managed to pin the dragon beneath his boot.

The beast that had shared his room for a week, rather refused to share, at last lowered its proud head.

As the Norwegian Ridgeback lay at his feet, softly whimpering, Wentworth recognized the gesture for what it was: submission.

Were it not for the awareness that Gellert Grindelwald was in the next room, Wentworth might have burst into victorious laughter, letting the mountain winds carry his triumph.

Instead, he gave the creature a light nudge with his foot and pointed toward the massive hole it had smashed into the outer wall.

The dragon understood immediately and began shuffling its way to the opening. Once there, it dropped onto its haunches and sat, using its bulk to block the cold mountain wind.

"Finally!" Wentworth grinned. "No more freezing in this bloody wind tonight."

But just as the warmth of victory settled in, footsteps echoed behind him. Turning, Wentworth saw Grindelwald himself.

At once, Wentworth smoothed the smug expression from his face and stood obediently before his grandfather.

Grindelwald said nothing. With a casual flick of his fingers, Wentworth's wand flew from his robes into the old wizard's hand.

Before Wentworth could question him, Grindelwald turned on his heel, strolled out of the room, and left behind only a single word:

"Continue."

A chill ran through Wentworth. He spun around instinctively.

Sure enough, the dragon, formerly curled in submission, was slowly rising to its feet, and its gaze now held a mischievous glint.

"Nibelungen, I'm warning you, I—Oi!"

Before he could finish, the Ridgeback lunged. Wentworth bolted for the door, but with a loud thump, he was flung backward by an invisible barrier and landed right at the dragon's feet.

Claws raised, the Ridgeback loomed.

Wentworth pointed desperately at its underbelly and shouted, "Sectumsempra!"

Boom!

The spell fizzled, and a second later, the dragon's paw sent him crashing into the wall.

"ROAR!!!"

The Ridgeback let out a triumphant bellow and began advancing. Flattened against the stone, Wentworth let out a bitter chuckle.

"My grandfather's teaching style is... brutally simple."

That night, Wentworth did win the right to sleep in the room, but he and the dragon had switched places. Now he was curled up by the blasted hole in the wall.

Shivering as the bitter mountain wind pierced through his robes, nose running, Wentworth muttered to himself, "Tomorrow, I'm tying my wand to my belt. Let's see you take it then."

To his surprise, when he retrieved his wand from Grindelwald the next morning, he found that casting spells felt... smoother. More instinctive.

After running through several incantations, Wentworth was certain, it wasn't his imagination.

Though he'd managed only the simplest spells like Lumos the previous night, today even his more advanced charms came with increased speed, if not power.

That evening, as darkness fell, Wentworth didn't wait for Grindelwald to ask. He handed over his wand without a word and walked toward his room.

Behind him, for the first time, Grindelwald allowed himself a faint smile. It vanished as quickly as it appeared.

Inside the room, the Norwegian Ridgeback watched him closely. It narrowed its eyes, scanning for a wand. When it saw none, it relaxed slightly.

Then it let out a deafening roar, a clear warning.

Wentworth didn't flinch. Instead, he curled his finger at the dragon, beckoning.

"Come on, then!"

The Ridgeback blinked, stunned.

After a long pause, it responded with a jet of dragonfire, then charged.

And once again, the battle began.

-------

Want to read ahead of schedule? Head over to my Patreon ——— patreon(.)com/PrimalDemon [remove the parentheses ( )]