20th June 1993
The Great Hall
The Great Hall shimmered with golden candlelight as the End-of-the-Year feast neared its conclusion. House banners rippled in the air above each long table—red and gold for Gryffindor, green and silver for Slytherin, yellow and black for Hufflepuff, and blue and bronze for Ravenclaw. Plates and goblets gleamed with the remnants of a grand meal. Students chatted animatedly, discussing holiday plans and making promises of letters and visits.
Life at Hogwarts slipped back into its familiar, monotonous rhythm once the whole Riddle situation was finally dealt with. Not that the past few months had been dull for me—if anything, they'd been the opposite.
It's been two years since I started at Hogwarts, and while I won't pretend it hasn't been good, I'm starting to feel the strain of just how…unchallenging it's all become. I've only just finished my second year, yet I'm already working comfortably at a sixth-year level.
In every class, the spells and theories being introduced are things I mastered years ago. Every potion we brew, I can produce flawlessly without thinking about it. I'm already capable of casting NEWT-level spells, and thanks to Mum, caring for most magical plants is second nature by now.
At this pace, I'll have completed the entire seven-year curriculum by fourth year—fifth at the absolute latest. Even if I bury myself in independent research, strip the Restricted Section for parts, and wring every bit of knowledge I can out of the professors, I'll still run out of things Hogwarts can actually teach me long before I'm meant to leave.
My recent trip to Westeros gave me an idea—one that finally felt right. I had a location in mind now, a foundation on which I could build my future school and the city that would grow around it.
I'd made a promise to myself a long time ago: in this life, I would not settle for mediocrity. Not in my work. Not in my vision. Not in what I left behind.
If I was going to build a school, it wouldn't be merely good—it would be exceptional. One of the best in the omniverse, if not the best. A place that didn't just teach spells or theory, but offered real knowledge, real guidance, and the kind of hard-earned skills that shaped students into something greater than they'd been when they arrived.
And if I was going to build a city, it would be more than stone and streets. It would be a beacon—something that inspired the people who lived there, and stopped others in their tracks no matter which world they came from.
Anything less simply wasn't worth building.
I drew up a list of everything I would need: resources, personnel, tools, knowledge—and the worlds I'd have to visit to acquire them. I sketched out a rough timetable, flexible but deliberate, something I could actually execute instead of just admire.
But no matter how clean the plan looked on paper, it all came back to the same problem. Power. Real, personal power.
As I was now, I could still chase my vision—but only by making compromises. Sacrifices. And I'd already decided I wasn't willing to make those.
Which meant the next step was obvious. I had to become stronger. Strong enough that my ambitions didn't come with a price tag written in blood or regret.
With that in mind, I'd chosen my next destination. The world was reasonably dangerous yet promising, and exactly what I needed. If everything went according to plan, by this time next year I'd be more powerful than any wizard alive—including Dumbledore, Elder Wand and all.
This trip wasn't about altruism. Not primarily. It was about preparing myself for what came next.
Still, where I was headed, I'd also be preventing an entire town from being reduced to ash by a very angry dragon.
Efficiency, I'd learned, didn't have to be heartless.
The general din of the hall ebbed away as the Headmaster rose to his feet. Peering over his half-moon spectacles at the assembled students, Dumbledore smiled.
"Time," he began, "how very mysterious it is. Some days stretch on like a lifetime, while, in hindsight, an entire year can seem to vanish in the blink of an eye. And what a year it has been."
His gaze moved fondly over the young faces before him.
"Friendships forged, love lost and found, and—one hopes—a little wisdom gained along the way."
"Now, the final house point tally," Dumbledore said, his voice rich and calm, "stands as follows:"
The hall hushed.
"In 4th place, with 332 points — Hufflepuff."
There was a polite round of claps from the other Houses.
"In 3rd place, with 376 points — Ravenclaw."
The Ravenclaws at our table clapped sportingly, with a few sighs.
"In 2nd place, with 389 points — Slytherin."
The Slytherin table gave a short, proud applause.
"And in 1st place, with 411 points — Gryffindor."
The Gryffindor table exploded with cheers and fist-pumps. Fred and George whooped loudly, while people congratulated the House team members and especially Harry for earning so many points on the quidditch pitch.
But Dumbledore raised his hand again, and the hall quieted quickly, curiosity flickering in everyone's eyes.
"Before we present the House Cup," Dumbledore continued, his blue eyes twinkling like the stars scattered across the enchanted ceiling, "there is one final announcement to make.
"As I am sure you all know, Hogwarts was founded by four remarkable witches and wizards of their age—Godric Gryffindor, Salazar Slytherin, Helga Hufflepuff, and Rowena Ravenclaw. Each left behind a treasured artifact: Gryffindor's sword, Slytherin's locket, Hufflepuff's cup, and Ravenclaw's diadem."
He paused, letting the names—and the weight behind them—settle over the hall.
"Over time, these relics slipped into legend. Lost to history, believed stolen or destroyed, they have remained unseen for centuries—carried away by the slow, relentless river of time."
"This year," he said, his voice carrying easily through the hall, "something quite extraordinary has occurred. A student has succeeded in recovering—not one, but three of these long-lost relics: Slytherin's locket, Hufflepuff's cup, and Ravenclaw's diadem. Behold."
The Great Hall erupted in gasps. Whispers surged instantly, disbelief and amazement flashing across countless faces as heads turned in every direction. All eyes followed as the Headmaster calmly produced the artifacts one by one, placing each upon a velvet cushion atop the staff table.
Interesting things, really. They weren't just good for show. Once they ceased to be horcruxes, they regained their original functions.
Slytherin's locket suppressed negative emotions like fear, anger, doubt, greed or jealousy and allowed the wearer to make rational, pragmatic decisions. The closest analogy would be that it turned a human into a Vulcan from the Star Trek verse — able to function logically without the burden of overwhelming emotion.
Ravenclaw's diadem, on the other hand, increased the rate of synaptic transduction as well as neural conductivity and regeneration. This led to drastic increase in cognitive abilities, memory formation and memory retention. Wearing it was like taking NZT (Limitless)—it made you faster and smarter. How much it helped, depended on how much you already knew.
But the most interesting one was the cup. Hufflepuff might sometimes be called the House of duffers, but in my humble opinion, Helga Hufflepuff was the greatest of the Hogwarts four.
She was able to build a scanner in the stem of the cup that detected the ailments present in the body of the cup holder. Based on the diagnosis, the cup conjured specific potions that cured those illnesses. Simply marvelous!
"The student who recovered these artifacts wishes to remain anonymous," Dumbledore continued to the hall's great surprise. "He believes that in returning these relics he was merely fulfilling his civic duty to the school."
"However…"
Dumbledore turned then, his gaze locking onto me, a distinctly mischievous smile tugging at his lips—one I did not like at all.
"My fellow professors and I have agreed that it would be a grave injustice to allow such exemplary service to go unrewarded."
He straightened.
"Therefore, I award two hundred points to Mr Benjamin Carter," Dumbledore declared to the now-stunned hall, "for returning these priceless relics to Hogwarts through courage, ingenuity, and—above all—by doing what was right."
For a heartbeat, the Great Hall was frozen in stunned silence. Then the moment shattered.
Applause thundered through the chamber, a roaring wave that crashed from table to table. Hands clapped my back, shoulders, and arms as those nearby crowded in, eager to be part of the moment. Students twisted in their seats to stare, whispering and pointing; professors watched with open smiles, some shaking their heads in clear admiration.
At the Ravenclaw table, celebration erupted outright. Cheers rang out as a flood of blue sapphires cascaded into our hourglass, the column rising and rising until it towered triumphantly above the others.
"Blimey, Ben. Where did you find that stuff?" Anthony Goldstein, who was sitting opposite me, asked with an awestruck expression.
"You're like a real-life Librarian out of one of your books, mate," laughed Terry Boot, and I couldn't help but join in.
"And," Dumbledore added, producing a polished silver shield engraved with glowing runes and the Hogwarts crest, "he shall also receive a Special Award for Services to the School."
He beckoned.
Hermione and Luna playfully pushed me to my feet. With a wry smile and a happy sigh, I strode forward through a hall that clapped and cheered all around me. As I reached the staff table, Dumbledore presented me with the silver shield, which gleamed in the candlelight.
"Not cool, professor," I half-heartedly admonished the headmaster.
Dumbledore chuckled. "Forgive me, Ben," he said quietly, his eyes shining, "but it can't be denied that Hogwarts owes you. We all owe you," he reiterated earnestly, putting his hand on my shoulder. "I wanted everyone to know that—even if just a little bit."
I shook my head wryly. Smiling at the well-meaning old man, I received the award from his aged hands and looked at it. It was ornately crafted, silver with gold accents—the Hogwarts crest sitting proudly in the middle with the words Fortis, Callidus, Misericors and Sapiens surrounding it. Turning around, I held it aloft for everyone to see.
The Great Hall roared with applause once more. The scarlet and gold decorations turned blue and bronze, but no one seemed to mind. The Gryffindors accepted the loss sportingly. Even Professor McGonagall was smiling genially as she passed on the House Cup to an enthused Professor Flitwick.
I know I said that I didn't want to deal with any hassle, but this...this isn't so bad.
"Alright, this seems to be turning into a great night," I said to the hall with a Sonorous filled voice. "How about we make it even better by watching a movie?" I smiled. "What say you?"
I didn't think it was possible for them to be even louder, but somehow they managed it. The shaking of the stars in the enchanted ceiling with the intensity of their response told me how much these kids were starved for some quality entertainment. I turned back to ask the headmaster for permission, which he graciously granted.
Soon, the dinner plates and goblets vanished with a soft clink of magic. The usual chatter faded as the movie projector came into view. Most of the floating candles extinguished, plunging the hall into a state of semi-darkness, until the projector fired a beam of bright light that turned into a massive illusory screen. Five words appeared on it for all to see.
HOW TO TRAIN YOUR DRAGON
"Tonight," I said aloud to the anxiously awaiting hall, "we are going to witness a story of dragons, and of one remarkable boy who dared to be different...and thus changed his world."
A soft murmur of curiosity buzzed through the students as they turned towards the giant screen, to be greeted by the sweeping shots of the Viking village of Berk.
"Wow," softly whispered a girl on the Hufflepuff table, "this one looks even better than Kung fu Panda."
Hiccup:This is Berk. It's twelve days north of Hopeless and a few degrees south of Freezing to Death. It's located solidly on the meridian of Misery.
Soft laughter rippled through the hall at Hiccup's sarcastic description of his village. This lasted until they saw the pests the people of Berk had to regularly deal with.
"Dragons!" gasped Hermione.
"There are so many of them!" Luna whispered with a big smile, her eyes reflecting the screen's flickering light.
"Are those muggles trying to fight dragons?" Ron whispered in disbelief at the Gryffindor table. "Nutters! Why don't they just leave?"
Hiccup: Most people would leave. Not us. We are Vikings. We have stubbornness issues.
"Well, that answers that," shrugged Ron.
As the movie continued, the students came to know the other characters — Gobber the blacksmith, Stoick the Vast - Hiccup's dad, and of course his crush - Astrid.
"He wants to kill a dragon to get a date?" Daphne shook her head contemptuously. "Boys."
But it seems Hiccup wasn't all talk, for he was able to do what none of his people had ever done before — take down a Night Fury. Yet, no one believed him.
"That's what happens when you make a habit of telling tall tales," Moody harrumphed. "No one believes you when you tell a real one."
Undaunted, the young Viking set out to find his prize. To his great surprise, he actually found it.
A hush fell over the hall as Hiccup approached the trapped dragon. The silence was electric—no one dared breathe.
"It's so beautiful," cooed Luna, looking at the large doe-like eyes of the dragon. "He's not going to kill it, is he?" she whispered fearfully.
As it turned out, no. Hiccup couldn't bring himself to go through with it and instead cut the dragon free.
"He's letting it go?" Malfoy muttered incredulously, while the rest of the hall breathed a sigh of relief when the dragon decided to return Hiccup's kind gesture and spared his enemy's life.
Everyone watched amusedly as Hiccup's dragon training started with pitiful results. His lack of friends as well as his natural curiosity led him back to the injured dragon. It was there that something extraordinary began — a friendship between a boy and a dragon.
As they watched the bond between the young boy and his dragon grow, students across all the Houses were visibly touched. Even the professors were leaning forward, intrigued. While spending time with Toothless, Hiccup began to learn more and more about dragons.
"Does that really work, Harry?" Collin asked excitedly. "Can you put a dragon to sleep by scratching it under the chin?"
"I... really don't know, Colin," Harry admitted honestly.
The audience sat enthralled watching Hiccup and Toothless go flying over the ocean. Tensions rose when they got separated mid air, but trusting his instincts Hiccup was able to guide Toothless out of the maze of sea stacks.
"That music is so epic!" Susan whispered to her friend Hannah, who fervently nodded.
"Now I understand why Charlie is so fascinated with these things," Percy muttered, his eyes following the duo on screen.
"Wish I had a dragon like that," Astoria murmured with shining eyes, watching Hiccup and Toothless' flawless teamwork.
In the arena, Hiccup continued to subdue dragons with apparent ease. Of course, excellence draws attention, as well as envy. Hiccup's surprise was compounded with the audience's when they realised that the jealous girl had followed the boy to his secret cove.
"Ooh, that's got to hurt." Neville winced, watching Hiccup got hit in the groin with the butt of Astrid's axe.
"Poor guy can't catch a break," Dean shook his head.
The students watched with pleased smiles as Astrid's haughty demeanor changed into amazed appreciation after one ride on Toothless' back. It was then that the two teenagers came to learn an earth-shattering secret.
"Woah!" yelled a surprised Ginny, as the Red Death emerged from under the mist and gobbled up a Gronckle.
"What the hell is that?" gasped Tracey.
"So all this time, the dragons were stealing food from the Vikings...to feed this thing?" Rachel blinked in realisation. Everyone now understood that the dragons were not the villains—they were just as much the victims as the Vikings.
The conflict reached its peak when in order to protect Hiccup from an agitated Nightmare, Toothless entered the arena in front of everyone. Finally Stoick came to know about his son's extra-curricular activities.
"Oh no," Hermione moaned, watching Stoick disown his son for siding with the dragons.
"Listen to your son, you stubborn idiot," a Slytherin muttered in annoyance, as Stoick led his people on what was sure to be a suicide mission.
The students shook their heads watching the Vikings celebrate prematurely, only to run like headless chickens when the Red Death emerged from the empty nest.
"Well, atleast he is taking responsibility and not trying to save his own skin," admitted Harry, watching Stoick charge at the behemoth to buy time for his people to escape.
The arrival of Hiccup and his friends atop dragons sent a round of quiet cheers reverberating through the hall. Gasps and cries rang out as Hiccup and Toothless raced ahead of the monstrous dragon, avoiding its fiery breath by the skin of their teeth.
"Smart boy," Moody growled, watching the duo use the dark clouds as cover to attack their enemy.
The high speed chase had the entire hall at the edge of their seats, until finally—
"Yes!" yelled the students jubilantly watching their favourite Viking and his friend set the ginormous dragon ablaze from the inside. But then their smiles turned into worried frowns as Hiccup collided with the giant dragon's tail and got knocked out of his saddle, unconscious.
"No! Catch him!" cried Colin, practically on his feet.
As Toothless revealed Hiccup safely tucked under his wings, spontaneous applause broke out, cheers echoing against the ceiling.
An awed hush fell when Hiccup woke up with a prosthetic leg. Watching Toothless support his struggling friend wordlessly brought a tear in many an eye.
"Are you crying, Fred?" George asked, trying to summon back the sole tear running down his cheek.
"Nope," sniffled Fred. "My eyes are just... adjusting to the screen's glow."
"Yeah," nodded George. "The light is too bright."
Hiccup: This...is Berk. It snows nine months of the year and hails the other three. Any food that grows here is tough and tasteless. The people that grow here are even more so. The only upsides are the pets. While other places have ponies or parrots, we have...dragons.
The film ended with Hiccup and Toothless soaring together over the sea, the majestic theme swelling one last time. The screen went dark, and the candles reignited one by one. For a moment, no one spoke.
Then —
"Best thing I've ever seen!"
"Dragons are so cool!"
"Ben! We need a sequel! Please!"
It was like a dam breaking. All the students were on their feet — cheering, clapping, yelling, demanding to know what was next for Hiccup and Toothless. Even the professors were unreservedly applauding. I stepped forward once more.
"That will be all, folks. Hope you enjoyed the show," I said, to be answered with resounding cheers. "And please, don't try the dragon taming methods shown in this movie. Unfortunately, they don't work on the dragons of our world," I informed them, much to their disappointment.
"Thank you, Mr Carter, for sharing such a beautiful story with us," Dumbledore said with a smile, before addressing the hall.
"Not all magic is found in spells and potions. The most powerful magic is oftentimes found within our hearts—in trust, in friendship and in fighting for what we believe in," he said earnestly, "for that is what gives us the power to change the world."
---
Next Morning
Hogwarts Kitchens
Food - lots of it
Butterbeer - lots of it
Firewhiskey
Mead
Champagne
Weapons and armour
Storage satchels
Sleeping bags
Umbrellas
...
As I made my way through the castle, I reviewed the list of essentials I would be needing for my next trip. Most of the things I could easily buy or make. The tricky part was the food and drinks.
The booze I could score from our breweries, although the workers there would surely think I was on my way to becoming a raging alcoholic based on the sheer quantity I required.
As for food, I could buy ready-to-eat meals from the market, but none of that stuff tasted great—especially if you are going to be eating it for months on end.
All around the castle, the only topic of discussion this morning was Toothless. The Gryffindors were comparing the dragons' flight maneuvers to those of broomsticks. Hufflepuffs were talking about starting a club that spread awareness about dragons. Ravenclaws were trying to determine if there was an analogue of Toothless' species in our world. And the Slytherins were trying to see if they could use dragons in duels.
I reached out and tickled the pear — earning a surprised squeak and the immediate appearance of a gleaming brass handle. With a push, the portrait swung inward.
Inside, the Hogwarts kitchens were a warm haven of clinking cauldrons, fluttering aprons and mouth-warming smells of warm bread, roasted meats and berry tarts. Long wooden tables, identical to those in the Great Hall above, were laden with trays and bowls as busy house-elves flitted about with joyful purpose.
As I stepped in, the bustle paused momentarily.
"Master Ben, sir," cried the nearest elf, almost dropping the tray she was carrying. "You have come to see us before leaving!"
"Of course, Tilly," I smiled, crouching slightly to be more at their eye level. "I couldn't just leave for the holidays without saying goodbye to my friends, now could I? That would be terribly rude."
Over the last two years, I have become well-acquinted with many of the Hogwarts kitchen staff. My friends and I came down here often—not just for snacks and drinks, but also to chat with the helpful little fellows who knew everything that went on around the castle.
"Master Ben," Dinkly came forward eagerly, shoving his way among the crowding elves. "It is so good to see you, sir. Would you like something to eat?"
"No, thank you Dinkly," I said, sitting down on one of the many short stools set around the room. "I was actually wondering—with all the students gone, what do you guys usually do during the holidays?" I asked.
Dinkly shrugged. "Not much to do, sir. We prepare meals for the remaining staff, tend to their needs and clean the castle sometimes," he answered.
"And with so many of you," I looked at the dozens of eager, bright-eyed elves, "I'm guessing you all get quite a bit of free time?"
"Oh yes, sir," Tilly confirmed. "We having to compete to see who gets the work."
"In that case—if it's not too much trouble—could you guys help me out with something?" I asked.
"Of course, master Ben!" Dinkly said at once, with the other elves nodding and looking at me in adoration. "What can we do for you?"
"You see, this summer, I am going on a long journey. A quest, really," I started.
Gasps of awe and delight rippled through the elves.
"A quest?" Dinkly repeated, his eyes shining. "Like the ones wizards used to go on in the olden days?"
"Exactly, Dinkly," I chuckled. "I am going to help out some people reclaim their homeland from an evil dragon. I will be joining a company of fourteen others for a period of 7-8 months. And we will be needing food...lots of it," I explained.
Before I could go any further, a great clamour arose from the gathered elves.
"Say no more, master Ben," Dinkly said cheerfully. "We will be happy to cook all the food you need." The surrounding elves eagerly bobbled their heads in agreement.
"Thank you, fellows," I said earnestly. "I will of course, be paying for all the ingredients you will need. If you could prepare some hearty meals, fruits, baked goods and maybe a few treats, I'd be immensely grateful."
"Of course, master Ben," bowed Dinkly. "It would be our great pleasure to help you in any way we can," he said with a huge grin.
I extracted a storage satchel from my ring. "You can keep everything in here," I said, handing it to Dinkly. "It's enchanted with stasis charms, so all the food inside will stay warm and fresh."
"Now, there is the matter of compensation," I said, standing up.
Sharp gasps echoed around the room at once. The elves gave me shocked looks, as if I had said something deeply offensive.
"I know, I know," I quickly raised my hands. "You won't accept galleons for your work, so I thought of something else."
With a smile, I produced a movie projector—this one much smaller than the one I normally used.
"This," I pointed to the projector, "contains a series of cartoons called The Tom and Jerry Show," I said with a broad grin. "I think you'll like it."
With the push of a button, the image of a cat chasing a mouse appeared in mid-air. Within seconds, the elves were giggling and laughing as Jerry outwitted Tom again and again by throwing sausages, bashing him with frying pans and launching teacups like cannonballs.
"Ohhh that is funny, that is!" cried Pipsey, holding her sides.
"That little mouse is so clever!" Tilly squeaked.
I laughed along with them as I watched one of my childhood favourites. "Watch these whenever you're resting, okay? You've more than earned the right to have some fun, my friends," I smiled.
The warmth of the elves' laughter and devotion followed me as I made my way to the door.
"I'll be back for the provisions by the end of July," I informed them. "Once again, thank you everyone, for helping me with this."
"Good luck, master Ben," they chorused. "You is making Hogwarts proud!"
With a final wave, I walked out of the kitchens. I could just imagine Bilbo's confounded look when I start pulling out endless otherworldly culinary delights from my tiny Storage ring.
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[END OF VOLUME TWO]
Alright, fellas. Here we are at the end of the second volume — about to dive into the third. The author has done his job and continued to entertain you lot with due diligence.
It is now time for you to do your part and write up some reviews (hopefully positive). And don't forget to pay your dear author his fair share of power stones.
Guten Tag, y'all 😊