Ascension of the Wings
Rated T for now for language and references to sexual themes. May be changed to M later.
Set after OotP
Harry has come into a mysterious inheritance, one that hasn't been recorded for over a thousand years. Draco is a dangerous half-breed searching for his mate. What neither of them expected was finding the other.
I own only the plot and the unique ideas attached to it.
Chapter 1: The Gift
"Happy birthday, Harry," the raven-haired teen murmured to himself as he watched the clock on his bedside table slowly wind down to midnight. Another year passed with only the letters from his friends reaffirming the fact that he did actually exist between school years. The Dursleys, as always, had completely ignored the fact that Harry would soon be sixteen. So Harry lay on his stomach, drowsily watching the timepiece tick away the minutes. Hedwig hooted softly, as if to wish Harry happy birthday. The-boy-who-was-almost-sixteen smiled sleepily against his pillow.
It was a real smile, something that Harry hadn't been able to do much since the recent death of Sirius. That coupled with the experience of summer at the Dursley's was reason enough to explain Harry's mopey situation. He had been in a tired, grieving state most of the break, performing the odd duties the Dursley's assigned him with only half a mind. It was hard, going from no family, to a little family, back to no family at all again. Sometimes Harry wished he could grow up faster, so he could start a family of his own that he could keep forever.
Tap tap tap.
Harry's smile turned into a frown at the sharp rapping of something at the window.
Tap tap tap.
The teen climbed out of bed and walked the two paces to the window, but there was nothing there to indicate where the sound had come from. No owl, no friends in flying cars, nothing. Hedwig hooted quietly again from her cage. Harry, always the impulsive Gryffindor, opened the window anyways. As soon as his elbows had extended all the way up in pushing up the dirty pane, a streak of orange woooshed into the room. Harry jumped back in shock and the window fell closed behind him as the teen turned around and peered into his room. There, illuminated by the light of the full moon outside, perched a phoenix on the back of Harry's desk chair.
Harry squinted at the bird. "Fawkes?"
The brilliant orange plumage ruffled gently, and Fawkes' head came into view. The bird dipped its head in response to Harry.
"Did Dumbledore send you?" The phoenix shook its head no.
Harry stood in the middle of his room, puzzled as to the sudden appearance of Fawkes, who had apparently come without a prompting by the headmaster. Were his birthday and the arrival of the phoenix a coincidence? He sat down on the edge of the bed and stared at the orange-hued avian as it flapped over to cling to Harry's knee. With his beak Fawkes motioned for Harry to look over. The red digital numbers on the clock changed from 11:59 to 12:00. A brilliant explosion of yellow-orange light erupted in front of Harry's eyes, before the blackness of unconsciousness took him under.