Draco didn’t bother waiting until curfew.
He slipped out the back entrance of the Great Hall under the excuse of needing to “study,” waved off Theo’s knowing grin, and ignored Ingrid trailing after him with quiet little fox-steps like a very smug shadow.
By the time he reached the familiar, torch-lit corridor that led to Snape’s office, his spine ached with every breath, and his skin crawled like it was trying to peel itself away from the bones beneath.
He knocked twice, sharp and deliberate.
“Enter,” came the familiar drawl.
Snape’s office was as dim and foreboding as always, smelling faintly of burnt herbs, formaldehyde, and judgment. The professor sat behind his desk, fingers steepled, eyes narrowed like he’d been expecting him.
Draco stepped inside, Ingrid padding behind him and immediately curling into a ball beside the bookcase with all the drama of someone who had endured far worse than emotionally stunted teenagers.
Snape didn’t speak for a moment. Just… looked at him.
“Your posture is deteriorating,” he said flatly. “Sit.”
Draco sank into the chair across from him, trying not to wince as his back gave a disturbing creak. “Something’s happening.”
“I gathered,” Snape said. “The glowering, the fox commentary, and the fact that you’re limping all screamed subtle transformation angst.”
Draco scowled. “It’s serious.”
“I’m aware.”
Snape stood, walked over to one of the many shelves behind his desk, and after a moment of deliberate searching, pulled down a thin, unassuming black book. No title. Just a silver clasp holding it shut.
He dropped it in front of Draco.
Draco stared at it. “…Should I be worried that it looks like it’s about to either bite me or recite forbidden spells?”
Snape arched a brow. “If it bites, consider it a bonding experience.”
“That was terrible, Professor.”
“Get used to it. You’ll be in pain for a while.”
Draco’s hands hovered over the clasp. “So you do know what’s happening?”
“I have suspicions,” Snape said, his tone going low and unreadable. “The signs are rare. Pain, mood shifts, the sudden awareness of a magical bond awakening—though I suspect you’ve left out several relevant details in your quest for vague melodrama.”
Draco clenched his jaw. “I didn’t exactly want to talk about it.”
“And yet you’re here.”
Snape folded his arms, watching him with something that might have been concern or perhaps deep annoyance—it was impossible to tell.
“Page twelve,” he said. “And stop being noble about it. If the transformation is what I think it is, it will hurt. And it will leave you changed. But pretending you can manage it alone won’t impress anyone.”
“Wasn’t trying to impress anyone.”
Snape gave a tight smile. “No. Just one person, perhaps.”
Draco didn’t answer.
He flipped the clasp open and opened the book to page twelve.
There, in ink that shimmered faintly gold when it caught the light, was the title:
"The Awakening of Ancestral Wings: Guidance for the Transitional Bonded"
He blinked. “This is real?”
Snape inclined his head. “It’s extremely rare. But not a myth. Your family line… possesses a unique inheritance. Very few experience the full transformation. Fewer still survive it without assistance.”
“Wings,” Draco muttered, staring at the first illustration—a humanoid figure hunched over, bones erupting through shoulder blades, feathers starting to spread from open skin. It was horrifying. And strangely beautiful.
Draco closed the book slowly, heart pounding in his ears. “So what do I do?”
“Read the book. Follow its instructions. Do not try to force the transformation before it’s ready.” Snape paused, giving him a particularly sharp look.
Snape looked tired. “If you explode into feathers during Potions, I’m not cleaning it up.”
Ingrid, from the floor, let out a yawn that sounded distinctly judgmental.
Draco picked up the book, clutching it like a lifeline, and stood. “Thanks, Professor.”
“Tell no one,” Snape said sharply. “Not until you understand what you are.”
Draco nodded.
And as he left the office, the book warm under his arm, the ache in his back seemed to pulse once—sharp and sudden, like his body knew he was getting closer.
Something was changing.
And whatever it was… it was coming fast.
YOU ARE READING
Redemption | Drarry (Old version. Incomplete)
FanfictionSixth year at Hogwarts was supposed to be just another step toward the future, but for Harry Potter, it became something else entirely. A sudden shift in his magic, an unshakable instinct gnawing at the edges of his mind, and a pull toward something...
