Prologue
Harry
Harry was never given a reason as to why he couldn't stay somewhere else this summer. Even with Sirius finally being freed, he was not allowed to spend it with him. So he sat, miserably so, on the train that would inevitably bring him "home". Ron and Hermione sat next to him in the compartment, planning out their summer and gushing over how much fun they would have. Harry sat wishing he was on his way to Grimuald Place instead, dreaming of anywhere but the Dursleys.
The train finally pulled into the station, prompting its passengers to exit. Harry stood silently outside, waiting for Vernon to arrive and take him to his own personal hell. As the oversized whale of a man pulled up in his car Harry threw his trunk in the back and placed Hedwig gently next to it. He climbed in next to all of his things and Vernon instantly began a speech about freakishness in his household, the same speech he always received. When he arrived at the house he received a similar one, along with a lengthy list of chores.
He hurriedly took his belongings to his room. His room was not really a room since it only contained an old moth eaten mattress and a few of Dudley's old toys. With a sigh, Harry turned to his list and began with the simplest of chores he could find: vacuuming and dusting. When he was done with those he moved on to watering the flowers and mowing the lawn. He went inside and checked the time only to see that he had half an hour before dinner had to be served. In a panic, he grabbed the easiest things he could find, and set to cooking them.
"Freak!" Vernon yelled, "you were late with my dinner!"
"It was only a few minutes" Harry mumbled quietly.
Vernon growled at this and and grabbed Harry by the back of his shirt, "I don't care if it was only two minutes, you. were. late."
"I'm sorry." Harry replied
"Sorry does not fix it!" Vernon bellowed "It's your freakishness that gets you in trouble like this and you ought to know better by now."
Vernon struck him across the face, leaving a blooming red mark on his cheek. As Vernon made his way to the table, he pushed Harry against the counter top with a bit more force than was necessary. Everyone, except Harry, sat down at the table. He watched as they ate, hiding the growls of his stomach. He had hoped that scraps would be left for him, but as Dudley left the table the large boy practically licked his plate clean. Harry waited until the table was vacant before he began to clean. Scrubbing the dishes, then the counters, then putting away anything else left out. The Dursleys had already went to bed and it was only nine o'clock. Quietly, he slipped into the bathroom.
His cheek was already a soft purple, and his side hurt but had no physical signs of injury. He showered and slid into a pair of pants that were four times to big on him. By the time he had gotten into bed it was 11:39. His summer continued like this, gaining bruises and a few scars from "accidents", being refused food, and doing every chore imaginable. All without hearing from any of his friends, but a few letters form Sirius were slid in, as well as several gifts.
Draco
It was the night of Draco's birthday and he was happy to say that all had been well so far this summer. His father had become a spy for the light and his mother had been killed by Bellatrix. Draco was not cold hearted, he had simply never loved his mother. She had never taken care of him and had always been to busy to be there for him, so when she died he didn't feel a large amount of loss.
Early in the morning his father called him to the study and explained every detail about his inheritance and what he could expect from it. Draco eagerly awaited the moment his inheritance would course through is veins. It was 11:58 at night and his nerves had begun to set in. He wondered what his mate would be like, would they be a male or female, would they be tall or short, would they be caring or would they be horrible to him? 11:59...He turned over onto his stomach and tried to remember what all his father had told him about Veelas. What colors would his wings be? how much would his inheritance change him? 12:00...the manor was silent for a moment, as if preparing for what was to come. A searing pain started in his back and shot through his entire body. He cried out in agony as wings began to rip their way through layers of flesh from the inside out. His father came rushing in and scooped him up, trying to calm his son. He couldn't remember when but some time during his transformation he passed out from the pain.
When Draco awoke it was to the sound of someone else breathing beside him. He sat in silence until he remembered what had happened, he was officially a Veela, he had a mate. He looked behind himself but didn't see wings. He scrunched his brows together and walked over to his mirror, ignoring the soreness of his body as he moved. He looked at what had changed, his hair was now shoulder length and had taken on a more silvery tone. He had grown taller, and his muscles had become larger. Sighing in relief at the fact his appearance had remained unchanged, he closed his eyes and willed his wings to come out, there was a moment of discomfort as he felt a pressure on his back and then a dull pain. he opened his eyes and gasped, his wings were gigantic, the feathers black as night. With a shaking hand he touched them, discovering that they were as soft as silk. he jumped as a hand rested on his shoulder.
"congratulations son. " Lucius said.
Draco smiled and turned around to give him a hug, "I expected it to be different, more intense and painful." he admitted quietly.
"We always expect things to change in a large way over a short period of time Dragon, but things never change quickly and they never change how we wish them to" he replied, "and the changes are not always for the better."
They stood together for a moment, hugging eachother. When they broke apart Draco only had one thought: Finding his mate.
