The Willow, the Dragon, and One Very Impressed Headmaster
The air near the Whomping Willow felt… wrong.
Splintered bark littered the ground.
Roots jutted out like broken bones.
Branches lay shattered, the great magical tree reduced to something barely recognizable.
Keith stepped out of the shadows—
—and stopped.
"…Wow."
He turned slowly toward the culprits.
Ron Weasley.
Seamus Finnigan.
Neville Longbottom.
Keith studied the ruin, then looked back at them.
"I'm impressed."
The trio puffed out their chests instantly.
"See?" Ron said proudly.
"Not bad, right?"
Neville nodded vigorously.
Seamus grinned.
Behind them—
Professor McGonagall's glare could have frozen lava.
Professor Snape's was actively plotting murder.
Professor Sprout had her hand over her mouth.
Professor Flitwick was vibrating with suppressed laughter.
Keith gestured at the tree.
"Just look at it. It takes real skill to destroy something beyond recognition."
Sprout lost it.
Flitwick burst out laughing.
Dumbledore chuckled softly, eyes twinkling.
McGonagall snapped, "Mr. Runcandel."
Snape hissed, "You are encouraging them."
Keith shrugged. "Talent should be acknowledged."
The trio beamed.
Dumbledore cleared his throat.
"Keith," he said mildly,
"Do you have a way to heal the Willow?"
Keith tilted his head.
"…I do."
Hope sparked.
"But," Keith added thoughtfully,
"the one who can help is angry with me right now."
Everyone froze.
"…Who?" McGonagall asked sharply.
Keith snapped his fingers.
Pop.
A small green squishy creature appeared—gelatinous, hexagonal markings glowing faintly.
"Zyi!" it squeaked angrily.
It wobbled in the air, glaring at Keith.
"Oh come on," Keith said gently.
"I said I was sorry about the snack incident."
The creature turned away, offended.
Keith crouched.
"Please, little Zyi. Help me fix the tree. I'll play with you afterward."
The squishy blob wobbled.
Paused.
Then—
😊
It bounced happily toward the shattered Willow.
Light spread.
Roots reconnected.
Bark knitted.
Branches regrew in moments.
The Whomping Willow stood whole again—stronger than before.
Silence fell.
Flitwick dropped his wand.
Sprout's eyes shone.
McGonagall looked like she needed tea.
Snape looked… deeply unsettled.
"…What was that?" Sprout finally asked.
Keith smiled.
"Zygarde," he said calmly.
"A dragon and nature-type beast."
The staff collectively inhaled.
"…A dragon?" Flitwick squeaked.
"It hasn't awakened yet," Keith added helpfully.
The squishy dragon bowed politely to everyone—
Then vanished back into the portable dimension.
Dumbledore laughed quietly.
"Of course you have dragons."
Keith straightened.
"Well," he said, glancing at the trio,
"tree's fixed."
He turned and walked away.
"I'm hungry."
And just like that, Keith Argus Runcandel left the most powerful witches and wizards of Britain standing beside a tree that had just been healed by a baby dragon.