I own not HP. If I did a lot of people would still be alive.
Prologue,
Every tale has a beginning. Be it a happy story of faeries and their kin or a dark story of horror and doom or even a non-fiction one with nothing really important at all within. But this tale's start is so ancient that it's telling could be stretched over a decade and you would still not be in possession of the whole story. Rather than bore you with details I will give you a little side story:
Throughout the ages there have been many great and evil wizards who sought to gain power over the world. And inevitably these wizards were brought to their end by a suitably plausible 'deus ex machina'. One such wizard was called Xqbteroorn. Nobody could even attempt to pronounce his name and so he was known as the Teroor which is in fact the root of our word terror. Now this one wizard was not like the others before him. He had power but he did not make himself known like all his predecessors. The other Dark Wizards of yore would usually appear by going on a mass murdering spree of muggles before amassing followers to destroy his/her enemies. Xqbteroorn however chose subversion as opposed to all out war. He went to a place known only to the few great dragonologists left in that time period, though to be fair their numbers only dwindled while Teroor was looking for the info. Back to the story. This place was a fountain of magical properties that was said to give whatever beings who bathed in it increased magical powers. And to drink of it's waters was to become immortal and truly omnipotent. It was guarded however by a fearsome clan of dracomancers who, with the help of the Frost Dragons that lived nearby, guarded the fountain day and night.
Xqbteroorn came to them in the guise of a pilgrim. He had not eaten or drank in days, or so he said, and when he arrived he begged for food and water. The dracomancers recognized his robes as being those belonging to an initiate of their order and gladly accepted him. But they did not know that the true owner of the robes was buried under a snowfall somewhere at the foot of their mountain. He stayed there for many years training and learning, Eventually he graduated their academy and became quite a powerful dracomancer. One day his plan came to fruition when he was offered the honour of guarding the sacred well. The next night while none where around he drank the waters and became on par with a god. The clan confronted him the next morning and e simply smiled politely and started to wipe them out of existence one by one. As the clan members ran for their now worthless lives one of them, by the name of Frost, realized what he had to do. He went to the Frost Dragons and told them that their fears had come to pass. He then said it was time to activate the plan that had been in place since the dracomancers had first pledged to take up the task of guarding it. One by one the last few remaining dracomancers were paired with dragons their gender and age and the ritual took place.
For the fountain had another effect. The two outlying pools had seemed useless to Xqbteroorn but when two beings of similar age, gender and personality entered them then only one would come out of the centre pool. So it was that the new race of known as drakkens, half-man and half-dragon, were born. Together they were able to defeat Xqbteroorn and in order to ensure the fountain would never be used like that again they broke the peninsula it was on off the mainland and floated out into the oceans. Now the drakkens live their alone with their magic fountain frozen solid. Their task is merely to keep others away and to prevent the darkness from ever finding the fountain again. Little did they know…