The Truth Behind the Fire
Headmaster's Office, Hogwarts
Sunlight streamed through the tall windows, illuminating floating instruments that hummed softly.
Albus Dumbledore stood near his desk, half-moon spectacles glinting as he read the report yet again.
Multiple Aurora and Elite Aurora awakenings detected
Houses involved: Bones, Greengrass, Vole
Ministry response: Observation only
Dumbledore folded the parchment slowly.
"So… it has begun," he murmured.
Behind him, a portrait spoke.
"Something troubling you, Albus?"
Cedric Runcandel leaned forward, eyes sharp with curiosity.
Dumbledore exhaled.
"I have a suspicion," he said calmly,
"that all of this… is connected to Keith."
The room went quiet.
Cedric froze.
Then—
His face lit up.
"…So it finally happened."
He began to laugh—low at first, then louder—muttering under his breath.
"Finally… after all these centuries…"
Dumbledore turned, startled.
"Cedric?"
"What conclusion have you reached that amuses you so?"
Cedric straightened, pride radiating from him.
"Albus," he said, voice firm,
"Keith has awakened his dragon bloodline."
The words struck the room like thunder.
Several portraits gasped.
One dropped his monocle.
Dumbledore's blue eyes widened.
"…Dragon?"
Cedric nodded slowly.
"Yes."
Phineas Nigellus Black stiffened.
"A what?"
Cedric continued, unbothered.
"The first patriarch of House Runcandel was half-dragon, Albus."
Silence.
"The blood was never gone," Cedric said.
"Only sleeping."
Dumbledore felt his breath hitch.
"…Temar Runcandel," he whispered.
"The Sword Saint. The Strategist. The founder of the Northern Accords."
Cedric smiled.
"He was a dragon."
The portraits erupted.
"That explains everything!"
"No wonder his magic was abnormal!"
"Merlin's beard…"
Dumbledore closed his eyes briefly.
"All these years," he said softly.
"We believed his power was genius alone."
Cedric shook his head.
"No. Blood."
He walked forward in the frame.
"We expected a dragon to be born again one day.
But not every generation awakens it."
He paused.
"We made sure the truth stayed hidden.
Only the patriarch of each generation knew."
Dumbledore opened his eyes.
"And now Keith has fulfilled it."
"Yes."
Cedric's expression turned serious.
"And the blessing you're seeing?"
He shook his head.
"That will only ever be given to his wives."
Phineas scoffed loudly.
"Hah! Of course! That boy has taste."
Several portraits groaned.
Phineas smirked proudly.
"He's my son-in-law, you know."
A chorus of jealous muttering followed.
"Unfair."
"Why not my house?"
"The Blacks always land on their feet…"
Cedric ignored them and turned back to Dumbledore.
"So relax, Albus," he said.
"Keith will not hand power to the world."
Dumbledore nodded slowly.
"I see now."
He looked thoughtful—then faintly amused.
"That explains why the Ministry halted immediately."
Cedric chuckled.
"They recognized a primordial pattern.
Even if they don't understand it."
Dumbledore turned serious again.
"This knowledge… must not leave this room."
Cedric's gaze hardened.
"It must not."
Phineas raised a hand lazily.
"My lips are sealed.
Black pride aside, even I know when to stay silent."
Dumbledore inclined his head.
"I give you my word," he said.
"Nothing of this will be revealed to the outside world."
The room relaxed.
Outside, Hogwarts continued peacefully.
Inside—
A truth older than the castle itself had resurfaced.
And the world, unknowingly, was now walking beside a dragon.