Trying to be Good Mates (Drarry)

Chapter 2

It was Draco's 16th birthday and he was screaming.

His parents looked on in sadness, wishing they could do something to help him with the pain, but inheritance pains couldn't be stopped. They were glad their son had an inheritance, he was clearly going to be a very powerful wizard in the future. They wished him happiness with his mate, whoever that may be.

Blood was splattered on Draco's bed when his wings burst from his back, they were a light cream, somehow looking both as soft as a kitten, and as sharp as a butcher knife. After they burst from his back, Draco's breathing started to slow, no longer seeming as laboured as he relaxed, the pain that was so agonising only seconds before was now fading away, instead replaced by a pull in his chest.

"Draco, darling, how do you feel?" Narcissa asked, carefully walking towards Draco, not wanting to scare or anger him when he had just gone through his inheritance.

"Mate." Draco said, his eyes cold as he looked at his mother, making the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end, a cry just about stifled in her throat.

"Now Draco," Lucius reprimanded, walking closer to his son. "That is no way to talk to your mother."

"Mate!" Draco said, turning his attention to his father. His pale blue eyes filled with both anger and desperation. Lucius recognised that look, he would need to do something to stop Draco from going off on his own to find his mate.

"We'll let you go to your mate after you drink this." Lucius said, holding an opaque vial out to Draco.

Without missing a beat, Draco snatched the potion out of Lucius' hands, not caring what he had to do to be allowed to search for his mate. If it wasn't for the post inheritance strength of the pull, Lucius would have told Draco off for his poor manors, but he knew Draco wouldn't even remember what just happened when he woke up again. Draco chugged the potion, his eyes rolling up as he flopped back to his bed.

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Harry was laying half starved in his cupboard. All summer he had been somewhere between starving and in pain, or drugged with a slight bit of food.

Some of Dudley's friends had tried to get Dudley to sleep with them in order to explore their sexuality, saying they were willing to pay for him too. Petunia and Dursley weren't willing to allow the neighbours to think that Dudley was gay (Dudley had a good laugh at that), so they took the money and made Harry do it.

Harry was curled up in his cupboard, he was cold, tired and hungry. The next evening he was going to be sold out again, at least he would get something to eat. He felt a hole in his chest, as though something was missing. He felt that way every summer, so he usually thought he was missing Hogwarts, but that didn't feel right.

His wand had been snapped in order to force him into doing as Petunia and Vernon wanted him to do, so he wasn't even sure if he would be able to return to Hogwarts, let alone have magic that worked as easily as it had in the ears prior.

Hidden in the only place of safety he had left, Harry started to cry. He was never going to be what everyone thought he was, and the guilt was eating up at him, he was the reason Sirius, Cedric, and his parents were dead. The world would probably have been better without him, Dudley would probably have more accepting parents as they wouldn't have had to put up with someone as abnormal as him.