Chapter Text
Ingress had barely been able to process his luck or lack thereof, before his name was called. The other three had gone, but they weren't allowed to watch.
"Ingress Lestrange!"
He took a slow breath, rolled his shoulders, and stepped into the arena. The uniform they'd given him wasn't the most fashionable, but it was in Slytherin greens.
The cheers from the crowd barely registered as his gaze locked onto the massive beast that awaited him. The Ridgeback Tiger. It was coiled atop one of the rock formations, limbs stretched lazily, wings tucked tight against its scaled body. The markings along its hide were striped black over a golden base, resembling a tiger's pelt, but the creature moved like a sleek and sinuous panther. Its eyes, slit-pupiled and gleaming with curiosity, tracked his every step. Its naturally yellow eyes gleamed in hues of orange and blue; it wasn't on the offence just yet.
Ingress's fingers twitched at his sides. He had nothing. No plan, no brilliant strategy, no special spell that would miraculously save him from becoming dragon food. All he had was his magic, instincts and the real feeling that this was a trap.
The Ridgeback's tail flicked once. He froze. That was a cat movement. The thought struck him hard; it wasn't just watching him like prey but assessing him.
The dragon tilted its head. He hesitated, then, before he could stop himself, he tilted his head right back. The Ridgeback blinked, then, a quiet huff. It was not fire, just air, and then it tilted its head again. Something cold slipped down Ingress' spine.
Oh, you've got to be joking.
He knew that movement was a cat's movement; that was how cats communicated.
And, well...
Ingress was a cat. A literal, registered Animagus. He'd just gone off the assumption he wasn't going to be using said assets in Britain. He'd done it a year ago in Australia, getting it all properly documented, but there had never been a moment where his particular ability had seemed useful.
Until now.
This was a guess, a stupid, dangerous, possibly-moronic guess, but if this dragon had even the slightest connection to feline behaviour... He inhaled deeply, then shifted. The transformation was smooth, natural, and second nature. One blink, one shift of magic and suddenly, he was standing on four paws, a small ball of black.
Someone was talking, following what he was doing and reassuring the crowd that he was registered.
The crowd gasped. The Ridgeback stilled, its slit-pupiled eyes widened. Ingress, now a sleek black cat with sharp icy blue eyes, flicked his tail once, and the Ridgeback responded. Its tail twitched, and its body remained low and poised, but something about its posture changed.
Then, slowly, curiously, it let out a sound, a deep, reverberating chuff.
A greeting. A dragon's version of a hello.
Oh, hell.
It worked. It actually worked.
It wasn't speech, not exactly. Animagi couldn't talk to animals, not like Parselmouths could with snakes, but something about shifting forms helped a wizard understand the core meaning of the sounds. It was instinctual, primal, a shared language of body and intent.
And this Ridgeback? It recognised him, and Ingress let out a small, experimental mrow.
The Ridgeback exhaled again. Then, in a movement so painfully cat-like that it was almost funny, it stretched. Limbs extended, spine arched, wings flaring ever so slightly before tucking back in. Then, it plopped back down, resting its head on its front limbs.
Not a threat. Not aggressive. Just... curious.
Holy shit.
The realisation almost made him laugh. Instead, he gave a slow blink, a sign of trust, a feline signal of non-aggression.
The Ridgeback... blinked back. Ingress chirped in cat-like happiness in response.
Oh.
Oh, this was madness.
He looked on slowly, debating his next movements, and the Ridgeback merely watched. The crowd had gone utterly silent. It was waiting. Ingress took a step forward.
Then another.
He was within range now. Close enough that the dragon could kill him in an instant, but it didn't. It just huffed, tilting its head again. He purposely changed back into his human form, dark hair scattering around him in the wind.
"Easy, girl," Ingress muttered, voice even, calm.
He reached for the egg. The Ridgeback watched as he picked it up.
The horn sounded. The crowd erupted.
And the dragon, as though utterly bored with the whole affair, let out one last deep, reverberating chuff before curling up like a massive, oversized housecat.
Task complete.
The cheers were deafening. The Ridgeback, unbothered by the noise, let out one last great exhale, the warm gust of air ruffling Ingress' robes. He still held the golden egg in his arms, standing in slight disbelief that he had actually pulled this off as he reached far enough away for it to be considered safe.
The dragon, however, seemed far less concerned.
Because in the next moment, without warning, without hesitation, it reached out with one massive, clawed forelimb and scooped him up.
"What—?!" Ingress yelped.
The crowd screamed.
The dragon curled him in close, tucking him against its broad chest like an overgrown kitten. Its wings were half-folded around him, shielding him from the world.
The arena froze.
"Uh," Ludo Bagman's voice crackled through the magically amplified speakers, "Does that count as a—?"
"This is unacceptable!" Madam Maxime bellowed.
"Merlin's beard!" McGonagall's voice cut through the crowd, "Get him out of there!"
Even Dumbledore had raised a hand to his beard, eyes twinkling in absolute amusement. Ingress, absolutely trapped in the warm, scaly embrace of a five-ton murder machine, blinked slowly. Then, because he was a menace, he let himself go limp.
"What a tragedy!" he called out, his voice dry as the Sahara, "I have been captured. It is too late for me. Go on without me."
There was silence. Then, Draco laughed a bright and loud sound from the stand before others followed. The Ridgeback gave a low, satisfied rumble, clearly not understanding, or perhaps not caring, that this was causing a small-scale diplomatic crisis. From the edges of the arena, dragon handlers were scrambling, preparing every calming spell known to wizardkind.
"Lestrange," came McGonagall's voice, tight with stress, "Stop antagonising the officials!"
"I'm not antagonising anyone," he said, feeling entirely comfortable, "I'm just making observations."
The Ridgeback nuzzled the top of his head, exhaling through its nose. Ingress sighed deeply until it decided to blow a low flame at the handlers. The warmth of the flame was too close posed at the dragon's chest.
"I have a new plan," he announced, "I live here now."
"You do not," Snape snapped, appearing at the very edge of the chaos, looking about three seconds away from hexing him out of the dragon's grip.
With obvious reluctance, the handlers finally coaxed the Ridgeback into loosening its hold. Ingress was carefully extracted via multiple levitation charms, looking entirely unimpressed as they set him back on the ground. He brushed soot off his robes.
"Alright," he muttered, mostly to himself, "Well, that happened."
And then, because it was Ingress Lestrange, and he was an absolute nightmare of a person, he turned to the dragon, gave one last slow blink, and said:
"Cheers for the hug."
And the Ridgeback, this massive, fire-breathing beast, chuffed.
His display had been nothing short of absurd. The dragon had practically adopted him before he'd casually strolled off with the egg, making it look more like a bizarre bonding exercise than an actual challenge.
And now, his scores.
Madam Maxime looked like she wanted to throw him off the Astronomy Tower, but with a begrudging look, she lifted her wand. Eight.
Ludo Bagman beamed, "Brilliant, lad! Never seen anything like it!"
Ten.
Dumbledore twinkled at him with obvious amusement. Ten. Barty Crouch Sr. hesitated for only a moment before giving a seven. Karkaroff, however, looked personally offended. His expression twisted into a sneer before he held up a four. Ingress didn't even react.
"Fair enough," he muttered.
The crowd exploded with cheers and protests, but he was already wandering off, vaguely listening as someone announced the next champion: Harry Potter. Ingress paused. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw the Hungarian Horntail being placed for Harry.
"Ah," Ingress exhaled, "Yeah. That's a nasty one."
And yet, he wasn't worried. Harry had some plans to use the Accio charm. It wasn't particularly elegant, but it was effective.
So, Ingress watched from the sidelines with the other three champions, who pointedly did not look at him, twirling his wand idly as Harry summoned his Firebolt, then darted around the Horntail with ridiculous speed.
The crowd was holding its breath. Harry was nearly flung off course twice, but in a daring final move, he dove straight past the dragon's head, grabbed the egg, and pulled up just before hitting the ground.
The deafening roar of approval followed. Harry, looking both shaken and relieved, made his way toward the judges as his scores were given.
Eight, nine, ten, nine, four. Ingress made a low noise.
"Hmm," He smirked slightly, "Consistency. You've got to admire it."
Harry, panting, barely glanced at him.
"I hate dragons."
"Welcome to the club," Ingress snorted.
The first task was officially over. The champions were led away from the roaring crowd and back toward the tent, where Charlie Weasley caught up to them.
"That was incredible, Harry!" Charlie clapped him on the back before giving Ingress a strange look, "And you, uh. You survived. In the weirdest way possible."
"I thrive on uniqueness," Ingress said flatly.
Charlie blinked at him before continuing, "Listen, Harry, you and Krum are tied for first place right now."
"Wait, what?" Harry gaped.
Charlie nodded, "With forty points each. That means Ingress is in second with thirty-nine."
Ingress blinked.
"I—wait. What?"
Charlie laughed, "Mate, the dragon hugged you."
"I know. Best moment of my life."
At that, Ludo Bagman strolled into the tent, looking entirely too pleased with himself.
"Excellent work, all of you!" he beamed, "Now! If I could have a quick word..."
The champions gathered as Bagman continued, "The Second Task will take place on February 24th at 9:30 a.m. You've got a fair bit of time to prepare, but the key is inside your Golden Eggs."
Harry frowned, "The... eggs?"
"Exactly!" Bagman grinned, "Crack those open when you're ready."
Ingress stared at his own egg. Then, at Bagman. Then, at Harry. Then, at his egg again, he suddenly felt very, very tired.
Slytherin held another party; he'd faced about ten people asking him about being an animagus, two of which had been an awkward interaction between McGonagall (another cat animagus!) and Snape, who looked closer to retirement than earlier that day. He was allowed to use his form since he was registered, but only at school, and to still abide by school rules - they knew what he looked like.
After greeting his housemates, he'd settled down to the empty five-bedroom he had to himself still and let Umbra coil her way around his neck before finally looking at his desk. The Golden Egg. It sat there, gleaming mockingly under the candlelight as if it held some sacred knowledge he was supposed to just figure out. No instructions. No hints. Just open it.
Fine.
He turned it over in his hands, feeling along the intricate designs before carefully cracking it open. A horrific, screeching wail ripped through the air. Ingress flinched so violently that he nearly fell out of his chair, Umbra coiled tighter around his neck - dangerously so.
"Bloody- What the hell?!" He slammed it shut, heart pounding.
The noise cut off instantly. For a long moment, he just stared at the egg, scowling.
Then, very deliberately, he muttered, "Right. So it's cursed."
Over the next few days, Ingress tried everything to make sense of it.
He opened it at different times of the day. He opened it in different locations. He even tried to talk to it (which got him very strange looks from passing students in the common room).
Nothing worked at one po; he enlisted Draco's help, which consisted mostly of him sitting across from him, arms crossed, and saying, "Have you tried not being stupid?"
Unhelpful.
By the weekend, Ingress was out of patience. His most recent adventure was taking the egg out ten minutes before curfew and opening it outside under the soft downpour that had started about twenty minutes ago. He was alone as the egg screamed; tiny whispers of something hummed under the noise as the rain fell.
"Hello again," a girl said, making him close the egg in surprise.
"You're... Luna? From the train?" Ingress greeted the blonde girl.
"Sounds a bit like mermish," Luna mused as she noddded, "My father did an article on them in the Quibler."
"Merfolk? Ah, fuck, of course," Ingress smiled at her as he paced, "The rain! I need to put it underwater. Are you doing anything right now?"
"Curfew is about to start; other than that, no," she smiled.
"Care to make sure I don't drown? I'll be quick. I just need a quick run to the lake."
"You can do it tomorrow, can't you?"
"Physically, yes! Mentally, no," Ingress honestly spoke as he started towards the lake, "I will be doing it tonight."
Luna followed as he jogged towards the lake, muffling snickers at how insane it was to plan to jump into the Black Lake after curfew.