Draco trudged through the heavy snow storm as the wind bit harshly at his sensitive skin. His clothes were completely soaked and he couldn't feel his feet anymore. The numbness helped him ignore the cold but sooner or later the potential frostbite wouldn't let him. I need to find him. He didn't know exactly who his mate was yet, but he needed to find him quickly. He spent too much time in these harsh conditions already. He remembered the day he received his inheritance. He knew his inheritance would be received anytime after his 18th birthday, but it came unexpectedly at his 17th. It was uncommon but not unheard of to receive one's inheritance at an early age. He heard rumours that early-age inheritance was a mark of a powerful wizard or witch and the earlier the inheritance the more powerful the wizard.

3 days ago

"Draco, everything will be okay, alright dragon? Just relax." Narcissa Malfoy was currently changing the now warm cloth on top of her son's forehead in exchange for a cooler, wetter one.

After receiving an owl from the Ministry that sentenced her husband to life in Azkaban, Narcissa was reassured Lucius would never be able to force their family into any danger. I can sleep well without having to worry about his reaction to Draco. She kept Draco's heritage a secret from Lucius. Merlin knows how he would have used him in the name of the Dark Lord. She was getting ready for bed when she suddenly heard a long whine coming from Draco's room, followed by a scream. "Merlin damn it all!" she said, immediately throwing off the blankets covering her body and sprinting towards Draco's room. However inappropriate it looked she knew how quickly one had to prepare for the transformation.

She found her Dragon curled up in the center of his bed, in pain and sweating heavily. His pajama top was completely unbuttoned, revealing light, barely noticeable scars scattered across his chest. He was silently crying with his hand covering his mouth, trying to still his continuous screams.

After administering the necessary diagnostic spells and prepping potions, Narcissa carefully rid Draco of his clothing except for his silk boxers, trying to make him more comfortable even though it would barely help ease his pain during the transformation. He gave him some Dreamless Sleep to make the pain of body modification less noticeable. She let Draco ease into a restless sleep, knowing a frightful mess would wait for her in the morning.


After the agonizing transformation, Draco could only remember bits and pieces of the rest of that night. He vaguely remembers someone cleaning his back, which he now concluded was the blood his sprouting wings were covered in. 2 hours passed and after attaining full consciousness, he felt the immediate presence of his mate too distant from him and ran after the newly present scent. Once he harbored enough sanity, he realized he inserted himself if a dangerous snowstorm. His mother only draped him in a bathrobe she used to cover him after administering a sponge bath to clean him . It did nothing to warm his bare legs.

Draco' agility was heightened in his transformation, but he was weak without his mate and the 5-inch deep snow was making things more difficult. His lips were soft, but blue and eyelashes were crusted with the fallen snow; his waist was slender and his hips wider. Any traces of hair on his previous body had vanished, leaving him pure and healthy for his mate. Despite his slightly more feminine beauty, he was reaching the point of exhaustion. His instinct continued to push him down the street of the muggle neighborhood. How he managed to apparate without severely injuring himself he did not know. Maybe it had something to do with his potential magic stored inside of him.

Draco could smell his mate; he was already so close now. With his eyes downcast, Draco didn't realize the brick wall he was quickly coming toward. With a hard thud, Draco's face and right forearm collide with the wall, quickly landing on his arse. Draco just lay there, looking up toward the blackened but star-studded sky, softly snowing. With barely enough strength left he reached out to steady himself against the wall, bringing it flat against him. His right cheek lay pressed against the wall, puffing out deep clouds of breath. His mate was right here; he was right behind this wall. Draco began to panic, raising his arms to furiously scratch and claw against the wall. Piteous cries and sobs of "mate" racked his small frame. He pressed his left palm against the wall and let a small burst of magic pulse throughout the building. Slowly, his fit calmed down; he was reaching his breaking point. But before he passed out or begins to slip from the wall, he felt the bricks shift and rumble against him, letting him fall forward. The last thing he remembered was dropping into the warm and steady arms of none other than Harry