Harry didn't need to rely on the Heart of the Wild to forge a bond with a tamed beast, nor did he need to draw strength or healing from such a connection to empower himself or his allies.
All he needed was for Norbert to learn to sheath its claws and fangs around allies, to temper its wild nature, and to become a safe mount—perhaps even one that could lend a hand in battle.
The chain in Harry's hand was a weapon conjured through Transfiguration, perfectly suited to help him control Norbert's movements. Most importantly, the nature of Transfiguration allowed the chain to lengthen or shorten at will, enabling it to serve a variety of unexpected combat purposes.
In the wizarding world he currently inhabited, dragons were considered among the most dangerous and untamable magical creatures. At best, wizards could get certain dragons to tolerate their presence, using magic to confine them to remote mountain ranges far from Muggle eyes or enchanting areas to keep Muggles away.
Of course, providing food or healing could foster a kind of friendship with some dragons, or there were rare individuals like Newt Scamander, whose extraordinary gift for communicating with magical creatures allowed him to coexist harmoniously with dragons. But these were exceptional cases.
Rare and far from universal.
From the books Harry had read about dragon research, the prevailing view among wizards was that dragons were fiercely independent and untamed, placing them firmly in the category of creatures that could not be domesticated. But in Harry's opinion, wizards failed to tame dragons because they didn't understand the heart of a beast—and thus, they could never conquer one.
Wizards could slay fire dragons, harvest their materials for profit, craft potions or fashion accessories from their parts—dragon liver was so plentiful it sold for a mere seventeen Sickles an ounce—but they had never managed to tame a fire dragon to be as obedient as a cow or horse, let alone turn them into reliable battle companions or mounts.
As previously noted, dragons stood at the top of the food chain from birth. A single adult fire dragon required at least a dozen wizards working together to subdue it. To Harry, this reliance on numbers to overpower a dragon made it impossible to tame such a proud creature.
Even Newt's relationship with dragons wasn't true taming. Newt relied on his unique affinity for magical creatures to ease a dragon's hostility, convincing it to follow his requests and act according to his intentions—but this was still not taming.
To truly tame a fire dragon, one had to face it one-on-one in combat and subdue it head-on.
Only then would a proud beast yield, willingly retracting its claws and fangs to become a trusted companion.
But in the wizarding world, how many wizards could defeat a dragon one-on-one in open combat?
Dumbledore could. Decades ago, the infamous dark wizard Grindelwald likely could as well. Voldemort… probably could, though Harry suspected Voldemort's dark magic would sooner kill a dragon than tame it.
This brought up another issue: the methods used to tame a dragon.
Unlike the dragons of Azeroth, which possessed high intelligence and wielded magic, the dragons of this world were, at best, advanced beasts. They had a form of intelligence, but it was rooted in their wild instincts and primal nature, incapable of developing a civilization of their own.
Even an advanced beast was still a beast—just a rarer one. For dragons that relied on their physical strength, claws, fangs, and fiery breath to hunt, the idea of a small creature wielding a stick and hurling strange orbs of light to defeat them was utterly baffling.
Worse still, those tiny pests often targeted their vulnerable eyes, which infuriated dragons to no end. How could wizards expect a dragon to submit when they defeated it through such tactics?
For beasts that trusted in their physical prowess, only a direct, physical defeat could conquer their hearts. There was no room for anything less.
That was why Harry waited until Norbert had acclimated to this pocket world, until it had claimed this small realm as its territory, before making his move.
He would defeat Norbert head-on, subduing its proud, beastly heart.
"Come on, Norbert," Harry said, gripping the chain tightly. The impending battle sent a surge of adrenaline through him, making his blood sing. "You may be just a juvenile dragon, but my body hasn't fully grown either—this will be a fair fight."
The chain, occasionally crackling with arcs of lightning, clinked with a crisp metallic sound as it retracted into Harry's hand. Under Norbert's watchful gaze, a translucent silhouette flickered behind Harry—a massive wolf with thick white fur, streaked with glints of thunder. But in an instant, it vanished, as if it were merely an illusion.
"ROAR!!!"
Norbert reared back and let out a deafening bellow. It remembered this human. Back in that cramped place where it could barely spread its wings, this person had fed it.
It sneezed, and a burst of flame mixed with black smoke erupted from its mouth, scorching a patch of grass in front of it.
Harry was certain Norbert understood him. Its current display of fury, its desire to defeat—or kill—the small creature before it, was all about asserting dominance over its territory.
A territorial dispute!
Driven purely by instinct, Norbert lowered its head and charged at Harry, roaring. The ear-splitting sound could kill timid animals outright or send them into a panic.
Norbert spread its wings, its two powerful legs pounding the ground as it ran. It curved its head and neck, adorned with sharp spines, and barreled toward Harry with brutal force!
It was fast! At such close range, most wizards wouldn't even have time to react before being sent flying, left to dangle from a tree like a ragdoll.
But Norbert's attack didn't end there. Whether it had learned from somewhere or was simply gifted, it didn't stop after the initial charge. Instead, it recklessly pivoted and charged back toward Harry's original position.
(Those who've been hit by a dragon's charge would surely understand the feeling.)
Madness—utter madness. The Norwegian Ridgeback, one of the rarest dragon breeds, lived up to its reputation. Norbert's ferocity only underscored this, despite being a juvenile. Freed from Hagrid's hut and Hagrid's affectionate slaps, Norbert's true nature had been unleashed in just a few days of roaming.
One charge wasn't enough. Norbert rampaged back and forth, flattening several trees in the area. The frail saplings stood no chance against its draconic might, snapping like twigs underfoot.
Shattered rocks and clumps of dirt rained down. Norbert's roars made Harry's eardrums itch, even causing faint pain. Though it couldn't yet breathe fire freely, the air was thick with the acrid smoke that poured from its throat with each bellow.
Occasionally, short bursts of flame shot from Norbert's mouth as it ran, but they fizzled quickly, mere sparks.
Its aggression was undeniable, but to Harry, Norbert's attacks were merely wasting its energy.
What good were attacks that couldn't hit their target? A mature beast would conserve its strength, just as a viper controls the venom it injects.
From the day it was born, Norbert had never known hunger. In its mind, its stamina was boundless. Always restrained and suppressed, it had never been allowed to fully unleash its power.
Even hunting the semi-wild boars in this suitcase world was laughably easy. It had failed only once at first, but by the second attempt, Norbert had learned to scatter the herd in panic, rendering them defenseless.
Harry dodged Norbert's charges with agility, moving like a seasoned hunter. He wasn't in a rush to attack, patiently waiting for his prey to reveal a weakness.
He didn't have to wait long. Norbert was no ancient dragon with years of battle experience. After five consecutive charges, it finally showed signs of fatigue.
Its movements slowed, its turns grew sluggish. In the moment when its old strength was spent and new strength had yet to surge, as it pivoted for another charge, Harry—who had already rolled out of the way—leaped into action. Feral Pounce!!
He was human when he left the ground, but by the time he landed on Norbert, Harry had transformed into a translucent Spirit Wolf!
There was no hesitation or softness in Harry before the fight was decided. He opened his wolf jaws wide and bit down on Norbert's shoulder!
The bite broke through, though not deeply. A single dragon scale was torn free by Harry's jaws, and the pain—akin to being flayed—drew a piercing cry of agony from Norbert. For the first time since its birth, it had been wounded by an external force.
Pain, fear, panic—these emotions flooded Norbert's mind. Instinctively, it began to roll on the ground.
Harry was pinned beneath the dragon.
Truth be told, though Norbert was only a juvenile fire dragon, its body already carried considerable weight. As it rolled twice with Harry clinging to its back, he felt as if his guts were being squeezed out.
But even so, Harry didn't loosen his grip. Enduring pain was no great challenge for him. He knew that when a beast went berserk, only by being fiercer could you break it completely.
Sure enough, after two rolls failed to dislodge the strange thing tearing at its back, Norbert flapped its increasingly powerful wings and took to the sky!
It flew fast. The moment it launched, Harry shifted back from Spirit Wolf to human form. Norbert's neck was long and slender, allowing Harry to easily loop the chain around it, securing himself to the dragon's body. His hands and feet found purchase in the gaps between Norbert's scales—surprisingly stable footing.
The dragon soared.
Norbert twisted wildly in the air. Though flying was a recent skill, its movements were as natural as if it had never touched the ground.
Barrel rolls, ascents, sudden dives—these actions seemed etched into Norbert's bloodline instincts. It performed them with flawless precision, while Harry tightened the chain, one hand gripping a scale for dear life, his legs clamping down on the dragon's scales at the base of its neck.
Harry had to use every ounce of strength to avoid being thrown off. His shorts were already torn by the sharp edges of Norbert's scales, and he could feel the stinging pain as the scales ground his thighs raw, leaving them bloodied.
Norbert's scales had shredded Harry's legs, but he refused to let go… or rather, no one would be foolish enough to let go at a few hundred meters in the air.
Finally, Norbert seemed to realize something. It began to climb sharply, the fierce speed and icy airflow scraping Harry's skin, forcing him to hold his breath. Anticipating what was coming, Harry tucked his head.
BAM!!
As expected, within seconds, Norbert slammed headfirst into the ceiling of the sky—because this was the suitcase world, and no matter how boundless the distant scenery appeared, there was always an end.
Completely unprepared for the seemingly infinite sky to be a solid wall, Norbert crashed into it, dazed and disoriented. A pitiful, bewildered roar escaped its jaws.
It was definitely concussed, because it immediately plummeted toward the ground in a free fall. If it crashed from this height, Harry wouldn't need to worry about taming a dragon—he'd be calling Snape or Newt to save its life.
Even Norbert seemed to sense something was wrong. It flapped its wings instinctively, but the force of smashing into the ceiling had left its concussed head unable to control its falling body.
Harry's stomach churned. In this upside-down, free-falling plummet, his organs protested, and his eardrums throbbed from the sudden pressure changes.
The rushing wind stole his breath. He yanked the chain's end, which, under Transfiguration, had morphed into a steel orb.
Storm Strike!!!
Blue lightning crackled along the chain, wrapping the steel orb in storm elements. It smashed into Norbert's back with a jolt of pain!!
The searing current made Norbert's entire body shudder. It roared in fury, the haze in its mind blasted away by the shock. All it could feel was the pain in its body, its head, and its back—CRASH!!
At the last second before hitting the ground, Norbert spread its wings and flapped furiously, pulling into a sharp turn like Harry snatching the Golden Snitch on his broom. It soared back into the sky, narrowly avoiding a catastrophic crash.
As if it had discovered a weapon against Harry, Norbert repeatedly climbed to the sky's peak. But this time, it was cautious, diving toward the ground at high speed when it reached a certain height, then pulling up just before crashing.
It threw in spins and rolls for good measure, and finally plunged headfirst into a lake—at such speed and height, even the soft water felt like solid stone.
Clearly, Norbert was learning this lesson for the first time. For a full two seconds after hitting the water, it lay limp at the bottom, its neck slack, wings askew, as if stunned.
Then came the ferocious bites!!
As a dragon capable of hunting underwater, the Norwegian Ridgeback retained some combat ability even in this environment. Instinctively, it used its wings and tail to balance, snapping its massive jaws at Harry.
Underwater, Harry couldn't wield lightning elements, but that didn't mean he was defenseless.
The ever-extending chain locked tightly around Norbert's slender neck. Harry rode the water's currents to flip onto its head, planting both feet firmly on its skull. One hand gripped the chain to steady himself, while the other formed a fist and hammered at Norbert's eyes.
SWOOSH!
Sensing Harry's movement, Norbert snapped its eyes shut, both eyelids and nictitating membranes closing. But to Harry, it made no difference.
Unconcerned about damaging Norbert's eyes with mere fists, Harry pounded relentlessly—on its eyes, its forehead, its ears, its cheeks.
The water's resistance weakened his punches, but Harry was no mere warrior. At some point, his right fist became encased in frost. The condensed ice exploded on impact with Norbert's head.
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