Decode (Dramione)

2. Metamorphmagus

"Do you understand the gravity of this Draco? Your father's head is on the line with your every move, we can't afford any mistakes." Narcissa Malfoy explained for what seemed like the millionth time to Draco, it wasn't like it was all he could think about every night lying awake in bed—gaining depths in the dark circles underneath his eyes.

"You heard mummy Draco darlin' do what you have to for your family baby boy." Bellatrix fake cooed politeness as she pointed to the dark mark Draco knew was under her sleeve when she mentioned 'family'. Draco thought it was a joke the way Bellatrix was deadly loyal to the dark lord, considering him more family than her own sisters, Andromeda for one. They shunned her out once she married the muggle and never looked back. Draco felt for his aunt, sometimes this all felt like a twisted game. A game he was unfairly placed in before he could speak for himself. Now the fate of them lay partly in his hands.

The mask of confidence that Draco showed to the world was just that, a mask. Thus why Bellatrix called him baby boy, it got under his skin but only because he never stopped feeling that way, helpless to his environment and unable to fight back. Draco wore the mask well nonetheless, no one suspected the Slytherin with a pureblood lineage behind him to have anything to worry about other than choosing a viable spouse to continue the family name with.

Draco was 14 when he discovered that he could do things other wizards could not. He showed magick abilities early on of course but, this ability was a late bloomer as they would call it. He had been swimming in a lake by the Malfoy mansion alone on a hot day one summer, he remembers wishing he could stay in the water for hours and just swim until someone came looking for him. He liked to sink himself to the very bottom, or as deep as his body would allow with the pressure of it. Focusing on the way the water felt rubbing against his body, particularly his ribs and legs. Then an idea popped into his head, he imagined himself having gills like a shark, breathing for him so that he hadn't the need to come up for air, he also imagined himself having fins of some sort to help him cut through the water easier and just glide. After a few minutes of having his eyes closed under the lake he realized he should be gasping up for air by now, eyes shooting open he opened his mouth and water came flooding in but he wasn't choking. His body was circulating the water organically like a fish. Startled with the new talent, he tried to kick his way up for air and found that his feet felt funny against the motion. Looking down, to his horror, he saw fins all over his legs and long mermaid-like flippers where his feet were. He goes to touch this new body of his and sees that his hands too were fish-like, fingers webbed with delicate fleshlike skin. For a second he thought the lake cursed him or that someone had been watching him and decided to play a prank on him.

Then he quickly swam up to get a look around, making sure this was no one else's doing. It wasn't, it was his own, he realized. He examined his work and his features became less frightening, he admired it. When nightfall crept over the trees surrounding the lake, Draco wished himself back to his former self, imagining his legs and fingers. He came out of the river without any wrinkly fingers and he took a deep breath of air.

Draco told his mother of what happened during dinner that night when his father was away in a meeting with the dark lord. There was talk of Draco being made a death eater and his father was pushing the idea while Narcissa wanted her son to live out regular teenagehood for as long as she could see to it. Narcissa was not entirely happy with the news that her son had special abilities, this only meant he would even sooner be dragged into the dark lord's heed. She could see it all flash before her eyes, but she knew she could only hide him from this fate for so long. Soon Lucius would learn of this and the arrangements for training would immediately take place. That's exactly what happened.

Two years later the silver-headed boy was able to take shape as any person he could think of. The idea of it seems fun and easy, but the trick to this was that one must have every detail in mind in order to shapeshift. Any wrinkle or missing mole not taken into account could end up in the mask falling. Draco had been practicing this at school for a year now, testing the waters, seeing what he could get away with. Shifting into different professors in order to get into the restricted section of the library. He wanted to learn more about his abilities, but there was so little information given it was such a rare trait that one can only be born with. There were virtually no books on it, only a small section in a Magical Abilities book at most. He found that he was something called Metamorphmagus, which was a witch or wizard that was born with the ability to change their appearance through willpower, without the aid of potions or spells.