An Angelic Fate//Drarry

1- The Truth Of Malfoy Blood

Every teenage boy has some kind of dream for the future, even the arrogant ones. For Draco Malfoy, it was to find true love and become a highly respected potions master. That all started to crumble and fall to the deepest depths of his memory as he awoke from the most uncomfortable sleep of his life...in feathers. Hundreds of silken black feathers, all plastered to his clothes and bed sheets from the cold sweat his strange dreams had produced.

He had been dreaming of flying around the entire grounds of Hogwarts on the first day back, students milling around below him as he soared the skies without the assistance of a broom. The world was drained of its many vibrant colors, showing only black and white shades to Draco's curious eyes. Being a boy who had always thoroughly enjoyed gazing over the horizon and absorbing the bright array of natures makeup, he had begun to worry about never seeing such glory again.

And then he had seen him.

Sat all alone in a small clearing of the Forbidden Forest, not far from the outskirts but far enough to not be disturbed, was Harry Potter. He had been lent back on his elbows, legs outstretched before him, absorbing the currently colorless sun into his fair skin. Suddenly, his emerald green eyes shot open and looked up at Draco in surprise, locking their eyes momentarily.

All at once, the world flooded with its brilliant bright glow, gorgeous greens, and all the rest. Harry had done that. By looking at Draco, he had returned his sight for natures glory in its purest state. But how? Just as he began mulling over every possibility from a curse cast by the cure himself, to Voldemort playing a prank, to simply going temporarily blind, he awoke in the present time.

As he gazed around the room, he realized the unusual feathers were not some kind of prank done by his friends as a back to school 'present', as they would have put them all over the room to cause even more chaos. They were only on the bed, excluding the few that were on the floor around the bed where Draco had unintentionally pushed them too when he sat up.

Climbing out of the sheets with a grace only a Malfoy could hold after just waking up, he walked over to the mirror to inspect the damage caused by his sleep, as he did every morning before going to breakfast, correcting any blemishes in his appearance so as not to seem lazy before his parents.

In the mirror, he could see his platinum blonde hair ruffled slightly and his eyes sunken more than usual. Probably due to the uncomfortable dreams, Draco thought to himself, already reaching for his wand to perfect his hair and cover the dark eyes. Only when he went to cast the charm, he couldn't. A simple charm, one he had cast millions of times at school, would not work.

Confused and slightly worried about his magic, Draco clutched the wand, noticing how abnormal it felt, as though it wasn't his anymore, and nearly ran to his fathers study, panic rising the closer he got. It may have been early, 9am to be exact, but Draco's father was always up at the crack of dawn and resided in his study until he wanted to eat, which was usually around the same time as Draco himself.

Draco had always looked up to his father, even when his roommates at Hogwarts were complaining that theirs were extremely unfair. He never went through that. It had worried him that something was wrong with him at first, but then Lucius had calmed him and promised he was fine, completely healthy, and that the only one who was different was Lucius himself, who claimed he loved Draco far more than any father was capable of, but was never to tell his friends. They may have gotten jealous.

Now, as Draco burst into Lucius' office, wand in hand and a panicked expression plastered to his face, he simply received a wide smile from his father, like this was the best day of his life. To an outsider, this could have been read as a small scale attack, but to Lucius, this was a positive sign. Mostly.

"Why are you smiling?! Can't you see I am in distress right now?! Help me!!" Draco yelled, slightly disturbed by his fathers calm features as he launched into a hasty explanation of his dilemma, about the feathers, the weird dream (though not in detail, that was far too embarrassing!), and the magic block he was having. When he finally came to halt, panting for breath, he expected his father to lecture him on how Malfoy's should act more composed, but no such speech ever came. Instead...

"I have waited so long for this moment. I'm sorry you had to wake up to that and have nobody to explain the situation before you attempted to use magic." That was it. That was the only thing that Draco's father said, pausing, waiting for Draco to react. Only Lucius would wait for a reaction before continuing in such circumstances. That man and his dramatic characteristics.

When he has finally caught his breath, steadying his heartbeat, he shot a questioning look at his father, all previous anger dissolving in the space between one moment and the next. Knowing from years of spilling problems to his father, Draco spoke curiously in the silence between them.

"What do you mean by that? Do you know whats happening to my magic?"

Lucius smirked, almost relishing in the confusion and anxiety simply radiating from his son. It was cruel to think in such a way, he knew as much, but he couldn't help it. His son was so easy to be at ease around, so easy to mess with, even during a crisis. And after waiting for years, he could finally tell one of the few people he loved the whole truth. He could peel away the layers of lies that had been built up over the years. He could finally teach his dearest boy to be his true self at last, the version of himself that he was still yet to meet, still yet to know.

"Yes Draco, I know what is wrong. You no longer need a wand anymore, it will only hold you back. Your inheritance doesn't like like the usage wands, but we can discuss how to hide that from the rest of the world later."

Puzzled, Draco asked the only question he considered capable of making some sense out of the situation. "My inheritance?"

Lucius could feel his smirk grow, even before his son said the words he knew were coming. Oh the joys of being able to predict his sons every move. He was too predictable for his own good.

"You see Draco, you inherited more than wizarding blood from me, you inherited my other side, also. My other self that shares my characteristics but has some of its own motives. The side that currently resides in you, too, in a manner. You see, dear Draco, you are a pure blooded angel, just like me."