HARRY POTTER:

TALES OF THE GREAT DRAGON

BY: The Grim One

A/N: This is the beta'd version of Harry Potter: Tales Of The Great Dragon. Sorry for those who expected a new chapter, but I decided to upload this first. The second chapter will be up in a few days. I received numerous complaints about the poor quality of this story thus far I have threatened my beta with a reduced salary if he fails to do it right this time. My beta is me.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, or anything else associated with it. Though I do own a toothbrush, pair of socks and coffee mug, which I will use to great effect in acquiring the rights from the venerable J. during a hostile takeover.

CHAPTER 1:

TRANSFORMATION

The winter months in London were especially brutal, the cold winds making it near to impossible for people to move about. The few who did though were covered from head to toe in numerous layers of warm clothing and didn't bother making small talk in the streets, preferring to just get to their desired locations.

Tonight was the first Friday evening of December and there had been heavy rainfall throughout the day. The skies had boomed overhead with the promise of lightning, and now a thin layer of snow had already gathered on the ground. That evening the weather man had eagerly announced that the rainy weather that had been plaguing the Londoners for nearly three weeks would finally let up for the weekend.

Children all over were awaiting a day filled with fort-making and snowball fights with great anticipation while their parents were simply content to not have to walk to the station through the rain.

Unfortunately, the bad weather seemed to be reluctant to leave and was now waging a proverbial war against the city. The temperature dropped below zero and the snow was starting to make the roads impossible to drive through.

The time passed midnight and on one quiet road a crack not unlike that of a gunshot was heard, along with the appearance of a tall and wrinkled old man with a long white beard that had grown till near his feet. Cloaked in a long robe and a thick midnight-blue jacket (that matched the robe) he hastily walked beneath the nearby doorstep of a plain brick-faced double-storey home. Hearing a loud yelp he looked at his feet and saw a black cat glaring at him angrily with its tail beneath his foot.

"Truly sorry, Minerva. I didn't see you sitting there with all this cloud cover'' said the man apologetically.

It was then that another strange occurrence occurred. The black cat suddenly stood on two legs like a person would, its black fur seeming to disappear as it grew larger. The fur was eventually transformed into black robes and a pointed black hat as the cat was replaced by another old person, this time a bespectacled woman.

"I'm sure you are Albus," said Minerva in a sarcastic tone "now where is Hagrid with the boy?" she continued

The elder man's eyes twinkled with an unnatural light "Not to worry dear, he should be here soon. Godric's Hallow is a long way from Hogwarts, after all."

The shape-shifting woman nodded sombrely in acceptance. Her mind was still focused on the terrible events from earlier that day. The memory of her favourite student in particular. If she knew what was about to happen to the child for whom she had sacrificed her life she was sure that Lily would turn in her grave. She prepared herself for an argument she had already had once before with the headmaster. "I don't understand why we have to leave the boy here Albus. I spent some of the day here and I can tell you that the boy definitely won't be taken care of here. I mean they treat their son as though he is some type of deity come to life, if they were to have to look after Harry as well I am quite certain that he wouldn't be properly taken cared of"

"As I've told you before, the best place for him to grow up is with his aunt. That way Lily's blood protection ward will be powerful enough to fend off from even the most well-co-ordinated death eater attack."

Silenced by the wisdom of his words, Minerva Mcgonagall- a professor at the most prestigious school of magic- Hogwarts School of witchcraft and wizardry- decided to let the matter lie. For now.

It was nearly another hour before the man known as Hagrid appeared. Riding on a flying motorcycle with a large sidecar filled with a thick bundle of blankets. With a roar of its powerful engine the mighty vehicle landed on the pavement with a long screech.

A burly giant of a man, Hagrid stood at nearly twice the height of most men and the ragged looking traveller's cloak that he wore only made him more imposing. A feat that was bolstered by his scruffy looking beard.

He strode purposefully over to the sidecar, seemingly unfazed by the harsh rain that pelted against his face. Pulling out the bundle of blankets he continued to walk over to the doorstep where both Albus and his female companion were eagerly awaiting his arrival.

"Evenin' Professor'. Cold night were havin' eh?" said Hagrid gruffly

"Evening Hagrid. I trust that everything went well?" Inquired Dumbledore

Hagrid replied with seriousness "I found 'him layin in the rubble, can't believe E's still alive. There was blood all over him, seems tha' his magic healed most of the wounds, t'is incredible."

Shocked at hearing that the boy had been covered with blood Mcgonagall gracefully reached over and took the bundle from the gargantuan man's large arms. Opening them up a tiny black haired boy was revealed. His clothes had been ripped to shreds allowing Minerva to see the massive 'X' shaped gash that covered his chest. Gasping in shock, she barely registered that scar in the shape of a lightning bolt was on the child's forehead.

Removing the wooden wand from beneath her robes she performed a transfiguration spell to conjure up a pair of form fitting blue pyjamas for the child to wear. "Albus you have to take away these scars, they're unsightly- not to mention the residual dark magic I can feel coming from them. Who knows how they could affect the boy! Merlin knows how badly dark magic can affect the growing body of a baby." begged Minerva to her older companion

The old man frowned slightly "You're right Minerva, it will make life a bit more difficult for the boy, but these types of scars always seem to have a good purpose. Why on my left knee I have one in the shape of the muggle underground!"

Not looking completely satisfied, she reluctantly held the boy out to Dumbledore's beckoning arms. The child looked very healthy in Dumbledore's opinion, considering that he had been taken from the rubble of a destroyed building not an hour earlier. He had been inspecting the child for several minutes only to now realize that he was completely alone. He tended to lose track of time on occasion. Mcgonogall had probably left in a fury with Hagrid accompanying her. The woman had been in a righteous fury ever since the death of the Potter's "One day, our world will call on you again to save us from a dark evil. I only hope that by leaving you here I'm taking the decision that will cause you to aid us once more" whispered the old man in the ear of the boy, not caring that babies at his age couldn't grasp the intricacies of language. Funnily enough, young Harry seemed to nod in acceptance.

'Huh. My mind must be playing tricks on me. Though that is probably to be expected of one who hasn't slept in days' thought Dumbledore

Glancing at the door he saw a small wooden basket that Mcgonogall had probably made for the child. Gently placing Harry in it, he slowly walked away from the Dursley home and spared the wizarding world's saviour one last glance before disappearing with another crack.

The time was approximately 3am on the Dursley doorstep and the baby that had been left on their doorstep was still lying in it's makeshift bed. After hours of some of the coldest weather in London's history the temperature had dropped well below zero and the normally pristine green grass lawns of Privet Drive was covered in a thick layer of snow.

It was a good thing Albus had put a warming charm on the boy, or else the Harry would have probably already been a Popsicle. At least it would have been a good thing, had the spell not been deflected away from the boy.

You see, having just gotten the child out of a life and death situation, the boy's protection would not allow any spell to come near him, regardless of intent.

The extreme cold would have killed any other infant in minutes, but this was no ordinary boy. This child had a vast wealth of magic, not to mention the protection his dying mother had cast upon him, but even with those the child could not last forever. And sure enough, the boy's heart had begun slowing down for the last few hours, and now it was nearly non-existent. Sensing defeat, there was only one viable option left for the child if he was to live.

He would have to change.

Not in the sense of becoming a better person, but in the true sense of change. He would have to be given a body that could handle the brutal weather. Changing one's body was an ability few witches or wizards had ever achieved, and they were all quite powerful in their own rights.

But let it not be said that magic was completely understandable. It is not a simple science that one could master with enough study and experimentation, and from time to time amazing and unbelievable things happened. Having already determined the course of action to be taken, his magic began rapidly working to transform him into the best form for his unusual circumstances.

Numerous changes occurred to his body, though his scars still stood proudly on his chest and forehead. His limbs lengthened along with the tips of his claws. The frail flesh that covered his body became denser and the white skin that had covered it became silver scales. A tail grew from his spine and was tipped with tiny scales. Finally, the green eyes gifted to him by his mother's genes were now ringed by two concentric silver bands.

The process was difficult and painful for the boy, but he had long since been forced to enter unconscious bliss, and by the time it finished several minutes later an incredible sight lie upon the Dursley's doorstep. A tiny dragon with metal like scales now stood where the human child had been. Two black-tipped horns jutted out from his head, already quite large compared to the relatively small frame of the dragon. His feet ended in black claws and his tail swayed gently in the wind.

Having awoken at the end of the transformation, the youngster raised his head to the sky and bellowed out a terrible howl that would have made the inhabitants of Privet Drive quiver in fear were they awake. But now there was another slight problem.

True, the feeling of coldness had dissipated but now another urge filled the child. An urge known as hunger. Harry slowly trampled away from the doorstep of the Dursley's where he would have spent his childhood in squalor. Led by his new heightened sense of smell, he walked slowly to the end of the road where the sounds of cats meowing rang in his ears.

Three of the furry creatures were loitering around an old swing, engaged in deep conversation. But the creature Harry had become was neither intelligent enough nor concerned enough to try and make out what they were saying. He slowly crept up into some bushes near to the gathering of kitties. The three cats ears prickled at the sound of a twig breaking underneath the foot of the baby dragon. Without a second though they took off, leaving Harry behind.

The natural senses of the baby dragon kicked in as he coiled his muscles and used his powerful hind legs to give chase to the cats. They were quite fast, having already ran all the way up to Privet Drive, to a house where he could smell nearly a hundred other cats lived. Focusing only on the cats ahead of him he increased his pace till he had managed to close the gap between them in a matter of seconds.

There were only two other houses to go and one of the cats had cleverly decided to jump over the fence of a neighbouring house, leaving the other two cats to face the wrath of the strange silver creature. Of the two remaining there was one scrawny looking ginger cat and a rotund brown one with numerous scars all over his body, a sign that he had already been around for years and wouldn't put up too much of a fight.

For Harry the choice was obvious. With all the strength he could gather, he leapt toward his desired prey, using his wings to propel him further. Reaching out with his razor sharp claws he slashed at the neck of the brown cat, neatly decapitating it. As soon as he had gained some manner of energy in his legs, he hungrily set upon his meal of choice, ripping and tearing at the flesh. He vaguely noted that he did not like the taste or feel of fur in his mouth, but he was too hungry to be picky.

Ripping out the cat's entrails, he made short work of the ropey meat and continued on to the remaining organs. As he got to a strangely shaped red organ that had once pumped the creature's blood around, he decided to leave it as it was, feeling that it 'wouldn't be right' for him to eat it. Instead he chewed leisurely on one of its legs.

Alas, he was nary but a wee baby dragon and could not manage to eat all of the fat creature's delicious, if somewhat furry, corpse.

As the weatherman had foretold, by the next morning the sun was out in full force and the only reminder of the previous night's cold weather was the snow that covered Little Whinging, though even that was already starting to melt in the warm morning sun. In one of those little houses a tiny old lady known to most as Mrs Figg prepared for her morning walk, but not before greeting all of her beloved kitties.

Over the years she had amassed quite the collection of cats, some from Egypt, some from North Africa and even a few from magical Britain. Two of her cats were behaving quite strangely, forgoing there breakfast to quiver in the corner.

Strangely though the largest of her cats- a part kneazle named Mr Fluffy-bottom- was nowhere to be found. Shaking her head at that cat's antics- he was always running around, after all- she opened up her front door only to see a most gruesome sight.

There, lying in the middle of the road and covered in a thin layer of frost was the very cat she had been searching for that morning. Blood was spattered all around him and his leg was lying further away from his corpse, a chunk of meat had been ripped off it. The head was missing and the chest was opened, though only his heart still lie in there. Hyperventilating, she ran for the telly and dialled the police hurriedly.

Not five minutes later they arrived and began drawing sticks to see who had to bag the corpse for evidence. Mrs Figg shakily gave a statement at the station and returned home where she joined her kitties in mourning the dear memory of Mr Fluffy-bottom. He was very dearly missed.

According to the evening paper a wild animal was in the Little Whinging area and anyone living or passing through the area would have to be on guard. The animal was most likely a wolf or an animal similar to a wolf and a special Pest Control unit had been sent in to deal with the menace.

*Elsewhere in Little Whinging*

The 'menace' responsible for the attack on Mrs Figg's cat was now snoozing comfortably amongst the rose bushes of a house on nearby Common Drive. Transforming into a dragon and having to deal with the senses of a dragon had taken it's toll on him.

The sharp thorns of the bushes were nothing for his impressively tough hide, nor were the tranquilizer darts that two men cloaked in black had tried to shoot him with. According to the aforementioned newspaper article these men were from Pest Control, but in actuality hey were something different. They were wizards.

Having been sent from the magical ministry's Beast Division, they were to capture the beast and return it to headquarters before it would inevitably be shipped off to some dragon reserve or something. But though these two had worked in the field for nearly thirty years each and had seen all manner of dragon pups (as they were called) they had never seen a breed such as this.

With long powerful hind legs and flexible forelegs, this creature was obviously intended for more than the bulky movement of most dragons. In fact, it's build was pretty similar to that of a carnivorous animal like a lion or cheetah. His wingspan was average at best, but his horns were uncharacteristically long. And that hide- dragons were known to have thick hides, but damn! The brat's skin was harder than most metals, and it would only get tougher with age.

Looking at his long-time partner, the taller of the two men breathed a long sigh and spoke. "I guess you were right Jim, these muggle tranquilizers are worthless when it comes to dragons."

His partner just smiled at him briefly "Don't worry about it Neil, they did save my ass back when we had to take down that Acromantula base. Damn spiders…" trailing off at the end whilst lost in the memory of being pinned down by a giant hairy spider, his friend interrupted his train of thought.

"So, what do you say? Manoeuvre D-76?" asked Neil

"Of course" replied Jim

Dashing out from their vantage point they rushed towards the tiny dragon and- before it had so much as turned up it's ears- threw a silver net around it. The net was made of a powerful magical thread and could easily hold a struggling .Before they could celebrate however, the net suddenly gave off an ear splitting noise and a large circular hole was burned through the net. The little dragon that had been sleeping deeply only moments before rushed out and began running for dear life.

Determined to retrieve it, the two wizards gave chase to the four-legged reptilian. Amazingly, the dragon managed to easily outrun them, even after they had used several charms to make themselves light as a feather and thus able to move faster than the average car speeding along a highway. "Damn it. We are so screwed" thought the two friends in unison.

A month later and after devouring a total of fourteen cats, two dogs, six pigeons and one pet guinea pig, young Harry was still roaming free. The division had already cycled through all of its best two-man teams and none had managed to catch the dragon they had dubbed 'The Silver Nightmare'.

Now, having gone under intense scrutiny from the ICW (International Confederation of Wizards) to catch the creature before muggles could report sightings they had forgone the usual rule of only having one team for a single magical creature (Under five stars, of course), and decided to go for the kill. They sent in an entire squadron- six men total- as well as one dragon handler to put an end to the baby dragon's killing spree.

The seven men were now jokingly hanging around a café in Little Whinging, nearby Privet Drive where the creature had initially attacked a cat. It was quite early on this particular Saturday morning and though wizards in the beast division usually operated at night they had decided not for this particular occasion, since most dragons were usually nocturnal.

Elric, a tall dark skinned blonde man who worked on the Romanian dragon reserve was the one who had insisted for them to get a bite to eat before heading out. Feeling a bit peckish and not used to being up so early in the morning, the Beast Division wizards had agreed all too easily, and had each ordered a large mug of coffee with a tuna sandwich.

The Leader of this mission was none other than Tobius Greichfield, a near legendary wizard with a near unpronounceable surname. He had already been in hundreds of battles and rumour had it he had single-handedly killed a sphinx back in Egypt during a ten-month excavation mission. Having moved to Britain from Germany during the second muggle world war, the man was already in his senior years. Some would say that was a bad thing but they had obviously never seen Tobius in battle yet.

Elric had looked up to the man since before he had gone to Hogwarts, having read about all of his adventures as a beast division wizard. After hearing who would be leading the mission he wanted to see for himself just how good the man was. Approximately thirty minutes later he got to experience a taste of the man's experience. After making sure that all of his men had finished eating their fill, Tobius called for them to stop the idle chatter and pay attention to the debriefing.

"All right men. As we all know, this isn't an ordinary dragon pup so we need to proceed with caution. This dragon's caused a lot of trouble for us back at the department and if we go back without it I bet on my mother's grave that one of us is going to be sacked, and you can bet your ass we're not getting severance pay"

Several of the wizards chuckled at this. Even as far back as Romania it was well known that the British ministry was unbelievably cheap.

"So we need to strike fast and hard. There will be three groups. Three guys will ensure the security of the perimeter while another two will prepare traps and eventually bait the 'Silver Nightmare' out into the open. Finally, Elric and I will take it down."

The plan was simple yet ingenious. A secure perimeter would prevent escape, two skilled wizards to ensured capture and traps increased the chances for capture in case those two failed. Strapping on their protective gear (while the owner-a muggle woman- looked at them as if they were nuts) they prepared to engage.

A powerful tracking spell had triangulated the pup's current location to a small forest (technically just a patch of trees) south-west of the little whinging area. Following the plan to the letter, the group now had a relatively powerful barrier and a dozen traps prepared.

They had decided to change the plan a bit though, after finding that the dragon had barricaded itself in a hastily made burrow and wouldn't come out no matter what Theodore and Wilhelm (the wizards responsible for baiting the silver nightmare out into the open) did. Dragons were known to make these types of temporary homes if a cave wasn't available, and would drag back anything that caught their fancy as a treasure of sorts.

Elric was forced to use a special whistle to draw the creature out into the open. Much like a dog whistle, a dragon whistle played a tune at a frequency most humans couldn't pick up- and the dragons hated it. An example of how much they hated it was when some stupid newbie dragon handlers had once tried using it on an adult Common Welsh Green, only to end up in a casket. As in all seven of them in one casket.

Putting the spiral-shaped whistle to his lips, he took a deep breath before blowing with all his might. For a few seconds it seemed that nothing had happened, but then a terrible shriek rung out from the burrow and a shiny dragon pup came running into the clearing. 'Damn. Never saw a dragon like that before' thought Elric in shock

The creature looked around the clearing, trying to figure out where the noise had come from. Then, seeming to make a decision, it straightened itself up and ran straight towards where Elric had hid himself.

But the blonde man was prepared. Holding tightly onto his wand, he made a jab like movement in the dragon's direction while calling out 'Magnus Aquamenti!'

A large jet of water shot at the pup from the tip of his wand, but only managed to push it back slightly. He had hoped that the strange dragon would share the same weakness for water that most of its kind shared, but it seemed things wouldn't be that easy for him. Becoming even further enraged at the audacity of the strange two-legged creature attacking him, the dragon dashed towards him, intent on slashing his head off.

Shocked at the pup's impressive speed, Elric just managed to cast a 'stupefy', sending a red beam of light careening towards the creatures hard skin. Unfortunately for him though, the spell harmlessly bounced off from the dragon.

His claws raised in an attempt to kill the blonde wizard, young Harry was forced to stop as an intense pain shot out from his side. "Get back Elric. We don't want you losing your head, now do we?" said Tobius to the startled dragon handler

When he was sure that Elric had moved far enough, the aged wizard casted a barrage of powerful blasting curses at the menacing little dragon. The powerful attacks, though severely weakened by its extremely tough hide, had made the pup fall to its knees. Wiping the sweat from his brow (casting seven Confringo's after one another was quite draining after all) Tobius approached the pup slowly so as to bind it with the cuffs brought from Romania by Elric. He was shocked however when a large quantity of magic fell upon him, originating from the body of the supposedly downed dragon. Imagine his surprise when the young dragon shakily stood up on its hind quarters much like some adult dragons were known to.

It was well known that dragons had a wealth of magic larger than most full-grown wizards, but not many had ever been known to be able to use it for things other than bolstering their flames or flying (what, you think creatures that weighed several tons on average could hold themselves up in the air with their wings alone, did you?), but this pup had somehow managed to do just that as a black ball of magic was now rapidly growing between his jaws. Green sparks of lightning danced around it as it now began pulsing steadily.

'Oh shit…' thought Tobius, right before the dragon released the energy that it had been gathering in a wave of power, along with an earth shattering screech.

Elric was running away from the clearing, tears streaming down his cheeks. He felt so ashamed. He was supposed to be the best dragon handler in the Romanian reserve but as soon as he had to face a little pup on his own without a team of dragon handlers backing him up he ran crying like an inexperienced first year at Hogwarts. It was pathetic. Pathetic.

His mind flashed to back when he had first told his father that he had been back when he had just been accepted at the Romanian reserve. Instead of the words of encouragement that he had been expecting but rather insults.

"Why are you still trying to be like me, Elric? I thought that you would have learned by now. You just don't have what it takes to be a dragon tamer." He had said

Spurred on to prove his dad wrong he had quickly risen amongst the ranks of dragon handlers until he was called the best, and now all of that was meaningless because he had chosen to run away. To run away from the man whom he had looked up to, to run away from his responsibilities.

"No! I can't let this happen! I'll prove to that bastard that I truly deserve to be a dragon handler!" So saying, the strong willed dragon handler turned around and made to run back before a bright flash of black and green filled the area followed by a hideous ringing noise.

Spells:

Magnus Aquamenti:

An improved version of the standard 'Aquamenti' spell developed by the auror Mad Eye Moody during the war against Voldemort. Designed to take out fires started by Death Eaters, it quickly became favoured amongst dragon handlers as a way to help control unruly dragons.

Mad eye also created three other spells including the infamous 'Aconius' spell used to poison water supplies of suspected death eater strongholds.

?:

Used by the dragon 'Silvern' (an abbreviation of silver nightmare) to great effect. A large amount of dark magic is condensed then released in a wave of energy. The attack can be greatly condensed and magnified though it requires a great deal of control. Very energy intensive.

A/N: Thank you for reading. Please read and review and thanks to all those who responded to the previous chapter. As stated above, the next chapter will be uploaded soon.

The Grim One