Redemption | Drarry (Old version. Incomplete)

Chapter 24: All Too Well

The look on Potter’s face was something Draco took pride in, but that isn't the problem at hand right now, now is it? He folded the paper and placed it back into his pocket.

"I fear I must cut our time short. Another officer is on the way. He will oversee the inspection, and I will be back tomorrow." Draco said, adjusting his collar.

McGonagall looked on with confusion, "I thought you would be the one to oversee the inspection."

"No, I was merely sent here as the spokesperson, if you will, an advisory. I will be back to make it official, but aside from that, you won't see much of me." Draco could practically hear Potter sighing in relief from the other side of the room.

"That is unless things take a turn." Just like that, all of Potter’s hopes were shattered just as they should be.

He bid farewell to everyone and made his way toward McGonagall’s floo. With a handful of powder, he was off.

//////

Once Draco was in the comfort of his home, he quickly shed his jacket and unbuttoned his shirt. Once they were securely on the couch, he stretched his arms and exhaled sharply.

Soon, a flash of wings burst out from his back, leaving a small trail of blood to run down his back and the skin around the opening to stretch.

He gave out a sigh of relief and gave his wings a test flap, only for them to hit him in the face. He furrowed his brow. This had never happened before.

He was always in full control of his wings, and they never failed to listen to him. They sure as hell haven't bled before. At least not since he first got them.

He rubbed his temple, "I see."

He remembered the first time he got his wings inspected, back in sixth year, when Blaise found him.

/////

Hogwarts Infirmary, 26th June, 1997

Once Draco came back to his senses, all the memories came back flooding. All this self-awareness made him shiver. Why? He didn't know.

All he knew was that he wanted out, but his throbbing head said otherwise.

"Mr. Malfoy, I suggest you lie down. We wouldn't want any more torn muscles, now would we?" Madam Pomfrey came from her office. She placed her hand on his forehead and slowly pushed him down on the bed.

"Where..."

Madam Pomfrey shushed him, "Not to worry dear, you'll be fine. Let's wait for your parents, yeah?"

Draco felt another shiver run over him. Mother and father. No, no, no, no.

"You haven't told them, have you?"

Judging by the look in her eyes, she must have contacted them as soon as he was administered proper treatment. Draco wanted nothing more than to cry, but what good would that do?

Soon, the door opened, and in walked Narcissa Malfoy pointy and neat.

Madam Pomfrey exchanged greetings with her, and not once did she ask why his father was not with her.

"Now, Mr. Malfoy, you were talking about a cupboard in your sleep. Something I should know?"

Draco closed his eyes. Vincent.

Oh fuck, Vincent. How could he forget? He was supposed to talk to him about the cupboard. Was he done? Was he already arranging for them to infiltrate?

He had to talk to him, but his body was not ready for cooperation, so the best he could do was deny.

"No, I must have been having a dream of some sort." His voice was a little hoarse from the lack of use, but he knew he got his point across.

Madam Pomfrey cleared her throat, "Let's discuss what happened, shall we?"

Narcissa took Draco's hands and squeezed them tightly. He could tell she was scared out of her wits, but she stood tall.

"The obvious problem here is, you have wings. Normally, getting wings is simple. You sleep one day, then the next their there. But yours was not the case." Madam Pomfrey took out a little notepad from her front pocket.

She handed it to Narcissa, "In there are various occurrences of bad wing projection. This means he did not meet the required means for his wings to sprout. In fact, they were a bit premature."

"How so?" Narissa gave the book to Draco.

"Well, he might have been exposed to a certain potion, or in most cases, mated attraction. This happens when you come in contact with your mate, but the bond hasn't been fully accepted—or worse, is being suppressed.”

The words sank in like slow venom. His fingers gripped the edges of the little book so tightly that his knuckles turned white. He didn’t dare look at his mother. He knew what she would ask next.

“It’s rare, but not unheard of. If the body recognizes a mate before the mind accepts it, especially at a young age, the magic can try to...force the transformation. Usually it results in incomplete shifts, instability, and sometimes…this.” She gestured toward Draco’s back, wrapped in gauze and enchantments.

“Wings that come before their time,” Narcissa whispered.

"So, it's over? It won't happen again?" Draco asked.

Madam Pomfrey sighed, "Well, yes, unless there is continued distance from the mate. You can go years without each other, it won't kill you, just a dull ache. But once you are reunited, those wings won't know what to do with themselves."

Draco gave her a look, beckoning her to continue.

"They will try and force their way out again, to lure in your mate, almost like a mating call, but don't worry, you'll know."

The silence was as loud as ever, so Narcissa spoke first, "I call your friends in. They've been waiting by the door for a while now,"

//////

Draco applied a balm to his shoulder blades and his sides before using magic to apply the rest on the places he couldn't reach. He had to get back to work, but his wings just wouldn't go back. He could put a glamour or bind them magically, but that wouldn't stop the pain.

Giving up, he sent a quick note to Hannah back at the office to inform her that he had business to attend before stripping of the rest of his clothes.

He needed a bath and fast.

"You're a mess." He heard a voice say from behind him.

"Oh shut up, Ingrid, there's a reason you have a collar now." He bit back, tying his hair into an upper bun before making his way to the bathroom.

Ingrid snickered behind him, "To make me behave? Please, you need one more than I do. Trust me, you'll look good in one."

Draco gritted his teeth and started to fill the bathtub with water. He wanted nothing more than to strangle her, but animal cruelty wasn't his thing.

"Animal? I am much more sophisticated than that." She spluttered.

"Get out of my head, Ingrid. What did I say about consent?" He scolded.

"That it's sexy?" She tilted her head.

Draco stared at her for a moment, "Just go away." He got into the tub and sank in. His expression was pained.

Ingrid came forward, "Oh please, now is a good time as ever for you to get your act together. You know what you need to do to relieve the pain, but your pompous arse is too arrogant." She said as she pawed the bathtub.

Draco just sighed and sank in deeper. He was quite done with life.