Chapter 2

Chapter Text

He took another shower—just because he could—and retreated upstairs to his room. Hedwig appeared at that point and Harry opened the window to let her in. She nipped his fingers affectionately and stuck out one foot bearing shrunken parcels.

He took the parcel and carried her to the perch on his desk. It took a moment to fill her cage with water and food and she hooted her approval as he went to investigate what she'd brought.

Harry eagerly dug into the packages to find a letter from The Burrow and a box of delicious foodstuffs. He nibbled on a few things, glad to see that Mrs. Weasley had cast a standard preservation charm over the goods and then settled down on his bed to read the only letter.

He'd felt a little down that Ron and Hermione hadn't written as they usually would have, but he pushed those thoughts away as he realized that nearly everyone at The Burrow had had a hand in writing his 'birthday letter'. He could make out the scrawls of Ron and Ginny, along with Hermione's neat print and the Twins wrote in the same way they spoke and Harry found himself simultaneously laughing and crying as he folded up the parchment.

He missed them!

He missed them all so much it hurt.

He learned that it had been nearly two weeks since his birthday and that Hermione had his present and would give it to him at school. Ron explained that they'd sent owls only to have them return.

They'd worried and spoken to Dumbledore, who had assured them that Harry was fine as far as he could tell.

Harry wondered how he knew, but pushed that thought away for later perusal as well. He eventually ate some more and hunkered down for bed. It was early in the afternoon, but he could feel his body beginning to shut down.

His mind was wide awake however and so Harry forced himself to think and chose a sensible course of action.

Reading.

Of course. He thought, wryly. That would help. He rummaged through the textbooks in his trunk and the few gifted books from Hermione. He searched and was relieved to find one on Magical Creatures—courtesy of Hagrid's class.

"How lucky." He muttered, flopping back onto the bed and cracking the book open.

He skimmed through the pages, having searched the index for 'dragons'. A slight hitch caught in his throat as Harry found several entries under "D" with reference to dragons. He read through the first three, Dragons, Dragoones, Drakken's and finally, Dragel's—an entry marked with an asterisk. He wondered why as he traced his finger to the page number and flipped to the necessary chapter.

The words seemed to swim before his eyes and Harry found himself reading with the feeling in his stomach growing worse with every line.

Dragel's are an extinct breed of a humanoid-elemental-dragon hybrid. Believed to be the result of a triad bonding between a powerful wizard, a Saurdahn warrior and an equally powerful and sentient dragon from one of the four elemental clans. The four elemental dragon clans have been hunted to extinction shortly after closing themselves off from wizarding and human society.

It is believed that the magical spirits left behind by these powerful creatures are the roots of all elemental powers today. Dragel's were considered to be powerful and beautiful creatures of grace and lethal skill. Often in a human form, Dragel's have anywhere from four to six alternate forms and a true form, which shows their complete dragon self.

In their true form, a Dragel's massive physical size and magical power poses a severe threat and as such, the Ministry of Magic forbade them to appear in their true forms. When such measures were protested, Dragel's were consequently classified as magical creatures and treated as such, in spite of their attributed power and intelligence. Dragel's are known for manipulation of wild magic—untamed, raw, magical power. Their ability to harness and control it made them targets for power-hungry poachers and political parties, as a Dragel's life is stake on honor and loyalty.

Dragel's are fiercely protective of their circles—immediate family and friends—and will gladly sacrifice anything to keep their circles safe and sound. and during the earliest history of wizarding wars, Dragel's were excused from combat due to the potentially unlimited amount of destruction they could cause in their true forms. As Dragel's are loyal to their own kind, they refuse to fight with each other, unless there are no other options or their nature deems otherwise.

Dragel scales, hairs, fluids and organs are invaluable in potions and rituals, particularly Blood Magic, due to the residual magical energy that resides within them. Dragel's are considered to be borderline dark creatures and it is speculated that it is the sole reason they were hunted to extinction. There are several specimens on display in the Magical Museum of History. Dragels remain as creatures of legend and are often used in children's fairytales.

Dragels use circles to classify their mateships. There is always a minimum of three, an Alpha dominant, a Beta dominant and a submissive Bearer, to produce young. A mateship is initiated by the submissive, who emits a call of a certain intensity. A heartcry will summon potential mates and a soulcry will summon soulmates. Elaborate courting rituals vary by elemental clan and there are four stages beginning with a courtship, an engagement period, and a bonding , following by the mating. A mateship is formed based on the potential elements in a submissive and the intensity of the submissive's magical signature.

The largest known mateship was twenty-seven bonded which produced twelve Dragel children. There are no other details on this Dragel circle. Dragels are very affectionate and colorful creatures. Unmated Dragels can become extremely dangerous and depressed if they do not find suitable mates. They thrive and feed on the love and approval of their circle and the lack of such closeness can cause many issues.

If an important mate dies, the entire circle will mourn and all scales turn black for a period of time. If a disobedient mate is disowned or banished, Dragels will attempt to remove the mating mark given to them at the expense of their own life.

Dragels grew to be fragile creatures during their final years of existence. It is said that this weakness is what caused their extinction. They are still regarded as legendary creatures.

Harry stared at the pages.

It could almost sound right and perfect, except for—extinction?

Harry shuddered.

He didn't even want to think about this.

He really didn't want to think about it.

So he didn't.

By the time September came around, Harry was back to his almost normal self. He learned that the Dursley's had gone on vacation when he hadn't come out of his room for a week and Uncle Vernon couldn't get in, so they'd simply left.

They'd returned a week before school had started and had been shocked, surprised and outraged to learn that he was alive.

Harry hadn't cared a whit.

He'd just wanted to get to Hogwarts and to their library. He'd also learned that he was most likely a Dragel, extinct or not and he'd have to start being a little more careful until he could get his hands on the necessary vital information.

Amidst the yells and shouts of his relatives, he'd hissed at them that all he needed was a ride to King's Crossing and that he wouldn't be back the next year.

That had quieted them—temporarily.

Harry sat scrunched up in the backseat as they drove to the train station. He'd let Hedwig out and knew she would find him when he got to Hogwarts. He was trying to keep as far away from Dudley as possible—the boy kept poking, pinching and prodding him—and concentrate on school.

When they reached the station, Harry hauled his stuff out as quickly as he could, grateful for the extra touch of strength his new self had granted him. He didn't look back as he plunged into the crowds at the station and aimed for platform 9 ¾ .

He didn't see Ron or Hermione—strangely enough—and when he got on board the Hogwarts Express, he shuffled all the way down to his usual compartment, only to find that everywhere was full—well, at least all the usual Gryffindor compartments were full. It didn't miss his attention that most of the students this year were rather subdued. Many of them were reading the Daily Prophet and a few spoke in whispers when he passed.

Harry wondered what he'd missed, but he didn't dare ask. Something didn't feel right about asking.

Biting his lip, Harry pressed onwards towards the Slytherin territory. He tried not to look too closely at any of the compartments. The last thing he wanted was to meet a certain blond prat and his cronies.

Moving further down, Harry was relieved to finally see an empty compartment. He practically dove into it in relief. Taking up his usual position by the window, Harry drew his knees up to his chest and hugged them tight.

He took several slow, careful breaths and worked on chiseling away at the feelings of contained-panic and unease. He'd learned a lot about himself over the summer. Thankfully, the Dursley's had given him the best present of peace and quiet by taking their vacation and leaving him behind.

Harry had been able rest and eat to his heart's content. His new self was extremely pleased at that and Harry had even begun to do a bit of research on his 'condition' via books through Owl Order. He'd discovered an affinity for raw meat nearly every four days and a hankering for nuts and a craving for heat, walking barefoot and drinking lots of water.

He made notes of all the changes and things that had happened and then he'd battled and wrestled with himself over whether he ought to mention what had happened to anyone at all. He had brought his glasses with him—knowing that Hermione would be the first one to pick up on the fact that he didn't need them as much as he hadn't thought of a good excuse yet.

Not meeting them on the platform had sent several stabs of loneliness through him, but finding an empty compartment had cemented the unwanted feelings of despair and shame. His change had left everyone thinking he was a freak.

No! He thought, viciously. It wasn't even obvious to everyone else that he'd changed—he'd worked hard through the summer to be sure that he could maintain his human appearance as best as possible. He'd even looked up glamour charms, intending to cast one as soon as possible, only to realize that his magic had refused to cooperate.

That had sent him into a minor panic attack, but he'd pushed it aside in favor of more rational thinking. This was simply another instance where fate had decided to play with his life and as such, he'd just have to make the most of it. That had been the reason he'd ventured into Slytherin territory to find a compartment.

The door to the compartment slid open and Harry jumped. He turned and stared, even as he shrank back from the newcomer.

Tall, thin and rather pale, the boy's face was set off by striking chocolate brown hair and very thin lips and a rather pointed nose. He stared at Harry for a moment, blinked, then stepped out of the compartment, looked around and then stepped back in. His hazel eyes narrowed to points and he took a deep breath and opened his mouth to speak. His eyes grew wide and he shut his mouth with an audible click and stepped fully inside, closing the compartment door behind him. He then went about pulling down the shades and turning the lock to keep any others from entering.

Harry suppressed the urge to shiver, as the Slytherin moved to sit opposite of him, the honey-gold eyes never straying. He tried to place the face and after several minutes, he could.

Nott. Theodore Nott.

The elder Nott was a known Death Eater. Harry swallowed. He didn't know much about Theodore, except that he stood apart on his own and was careful in his associations. Careful by the fact that he could hold a civil conversation with Draco Malfoy, but would not stoop down to the blond's level in terms of Crabbe and Goyle.

Theodore continued to stare and Harry had to look away, shifting uneasily under the piercing gaze. This was going to be a long ride.