Previously at Of Wings And Warriors - As Lucius absorbed her words, a sense of sadness washed over him. He was determined to do everything in his power to support his son through this ordeal. He returned to Draco's side.
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For the next week, Draco was delirious. All he could feel was an unbearable heat consuming him from within. He tossed and turned, his body drenched in sweat, his mind clouded with fevered dreams. He reached out blindly, seeking comfort and touch, but he could always feel his parents' presence nearby.
Lucius and Narcissa were consumed with worry, their faces etched with lines of stress and exhaustion. They seemed to have aged ten years in a single week.
Every few hours, they woke Draco up to give him the necessary potions—magic-strengthening, pain relief, and nutrition potions. He was too delirious to eat, his body too weak to sustain itself without their help.
The nights were the hardest. Draco's fever would spike, and he would cry out in his delirium, his body wracked with pain. Narcissa would sit by his bedside, cooling his forehead with a damp cloth, her heart breaking with every pained moan. Lucius would cast every cooling charm he had heard in the entirety of his life.
On the last day, just as dawn began to break, Draco woke up with a blood-curdling scream that echoed through the manor. Narcissa and Lucius, who had not slept in days, rushed to his side. Draco's body was convulsing, sweat pouring off him as if he were being consumed by flames from the inside. His skin was pale and clammy, his eyes wide with terror and agony.
Narcissa and Lucius sat silently next to him, their hearts shattering with each of his screams. They knew they could do nothing to lessen his pain and that he was finally transforming. Lucius swiftly notified the healer, who apparated in moments later.
Draco screamed again, his voice hoarse and raw. His body arched off the bed, muscles straining as if trying to tear themselves free. His spine twisted unnaturally, and they could hear the sickening crunch of bones breaking. Narcissa's hands trembled as she held Draco's hand, whispering words of comfort that she knew couldn't reach him through his pain.
"He's entering the final stage of his tranformation," the healer said, her voice steady but filled with concern. "His body is reaching sexual maturity and his magical core is expanding rapidly before his age. This is going to be excruciating."
Lucius nodded, his jaw clenched tight as he watched his son suffer, knowing he couldn't do anything. Draco's screams grew louder, more desperate. His back began to swell, the skin stretching and tearing as something pushed its way out. With a horrifying sound, like tearing fabric and breaking wood, two large wings burst from Draco's back. Blood sprayed across the room, and Draco's screams reached a fever pitch.
