To The Littlest Dragon. Happy birthday. May you always find a way to spread your wings and fly.

Once upon a time, there was a young boy whose name was Draco. He lived in a great manor, full of witches and riches and wonder. Draco spent his days with his beautiful mother and his wild imagination, exploring every hallway and every room and every secret passage. The boy believed there were entire worlds housed within the walls of his home. Today, he would find out just how right he was.

Draco looked out his bedroom window and watched the rain beat against the glass. No playing outside today, he thought to himself as he turned and pulled the stuffed dragon from atop his bed. He held it by the tail as he padded off in his pyjamas to breakfast.

When he arrived in the dining room, he found his mother seated and eating. She looked up and smiled.

"Good morning, darling. Did you sleep well?"

Draco's brows furrowed and he plopped his stuffed dragon atop the table then pulled out a chair.

"I lived in a cave and had to fight a Wizard Knight." He announced as he climbed up and sat down on his knees.

His mother's brows raised and she leaned forward.

"You don't say." She said as the hint of a grin crept onto her face.

Draco reached for a few pieces of bacon and began eating.

"Mm-hm." He nodded as he chewed. "You were there."

"Was I?" She asked as she began buttering a piece of toast. "What did I do?"

"You saved me." He said, matter of fact.

His mother leaned back and nodded.

"That sounds like something I would do." She smiled as she took a bite of toast.

Draco reached for the pitcher of juice but his mother beat him to it and poured him a glass.

"What will we do today, I wonder?" He said as he took the glass and drank deep.

She smiled down at him and sat the pitcher back on the table.

"There are some things I need to go through in the attic. I think you've never been to the attic, have you." She said as she winked at him.

Draco's head jerked up and his eyes grew wide. His mother had never let him in the attic. 'To many things to get hurt on', she said. He couldn't help the grin that spread across his face. He couldn't even imagine what could be up there and today he would find out. Perhaps Father kept a troll, or perhaps Grandfather Abraxas had hidden a flying carpet.

His mother finished her breakfast, and so did he. When she finally took the napkin from her lap and placed it on the table, he knew it was time. Draco hopped down from his perch and grabbed his dragon.

"Hold it, little wizard." She mock scolded. He stopped and turned.

"Yes, momma?"

"You'll need to put on some play clothes. It's dusty up there, and I'm sure you'll collect most of it."

Draco nodded and ran off as fast as his feet would fly. This was going to be the best day ever! He quickly changed, grabbed his dragon and ran up to the third floor. The attic entrance was down one of the narrower stone corridors near the very center of the manor itself. His mother waited for him, wand lit and shining the way.

"Are you ready, little wizard?" She asked him.

He looked up at the high, grey ceiling and nodded.

"Stand back then." She said as she flicked her wand upward.

Draco jumped back as the stones began to shift downward from the ceiling, cascading into a proper set of stairs. He gazed into the darkness beyond, then looked back at his mother with wide eyes. The troll didn't seem like such a good idea now, for some reason.

"Will you go first?" He asked almost timidly.

She looked down at him, smiled and reached to rub his cheek.

"Of course, darling. Take my hand."

Draco took his mother's hand and she led them both up the stairs. Her wand illuminated the darkness as they climbed. When they reached the top and entered into the attic proper, she charmed all the lights on.

Rows upon rows of dusty treasures as far as the eye could see. Trunks and cases and chests, each a mystery to be unraveled or an adventure to be had. He looked up at her and found her watching him, smiling.

"Come." She said, nodding to where she needed to go. "I'll show you where I will be, then you can explore if you want."

Draco looked in the direction and nodded.

"Alright, Momma." He said as he followed her down one of the long, makeshift isles, dragging his dragon along the way.

As they walked he tried to look at everything he passed. There was a strange clockwork man with magical whirring parts, a Hippogriff egg decorated with bright green and silver glowing paint and a large shelf of empty bottles in every color and size imaginable. Draco's eyes darted here and there and his neck craned every which way. He passed time, trapped in a bottle and the paw of a real werewolf, lying together haphazardly on an old oak desk. There was an ottoman with an attitude that tried to trip him and a painting behind a dusty sheet that sneezed.

"Bless you." Draco said as he passed.

"Tankyoo." The painting answered, miserably.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity of walking, his mother stopped in front of a few boxes labeled 'Borgin and Burkes'.

"This is where I'll be, my love. I imagine if you wander that way," she pointed, "You'll be sure to find some interesting things. If you give me just a little while, I'll come find you and you can show me what you've discovered."

Draco turned toward the direction she pointed and then looked up at her skeptically.

"Even if it's a troll?" He asked.

"Especially if it's a troll." She answered with brows raised. "Now go, and I'll play with you shortly." She leaned down and kissed him on the forehead and pushed him off.

He let go her hand and began to move on, looking at this and that. Draco turned left and then right, wandering, and wondering at what he saw. Shelves of old books and shrunken heads that giggled at him as he passed by. He saw a grinning cat who disappeared right in front of his very eyes. Everything except his teeth, that is. Draco saw a great many things that morning. So many, in fact, he decided he should sit down and take a break.

He gazed around and spied a small stool that seemed to be just what it looked like. Walking over and examining it, he made sure it wouldn't try to shuffle away with him on it, and sat. The boy laid his stuffed dragon down and looked at what lay around him.

"Such wonderful things." He said, half to the stuffed toy and half to himself.

Just then, his eyes caught something shiny. He stood up and walked over to a trunk on the other side of the aisle way. The trunk had a lock, but the lock had a key sticking out. Someone obviously wanted it to be opened.

Draco knelt down and turned the key. The lock sprung open with a click and thumped to the floor. He moved to open the trunk, but before his fingers could touch the shiny metal, the lid sprung open on its own. He cried out and fell onto his backside.

"Draco, darling, are you alright?" He heard his mother call.

The lid hadn't hurt him. It had only opened, which is what it was supposed to do anyway.

"I'm fine, Momma." He said, loud enough for her to hear.

"Just be careful. I'm nearly done."

Draco got back up on his knees and scooted over to the open trunk. He peered inside and found one small, stoppered glass vial. It was full of a glowing, green potion. Whoever put the key in the lock wanted someone to find this. He reached inside and wrapped his hand around the cool surface and pulled out the vial. Draco looked at the contents, and tried to figure out what it was. He pressed his thumb and finger against the cork stopper and pulled. It popped open surprisingly easy, but the vial tumbled from his fingers and onto the floor. The liquid spilled out and began seeping into the floorboards. Draco scrambled to fetch it up, and a bit of the liquid touched his finger.

He drew his hand back quickly. It was warm. His eyes fell to where the potion had touched his finger and it was stained green. No. Not stained. He looked closer and his eyes grew wide. His finger was turning green! He quickly shoved his hand in his pocket, hiding it from no one, save himself. 'What have I done?' He thought. Now he would never be allowed in the attic again.

He closed his eyes tight and slowly pulled his hand from his pocket. It was still warm. He lifted his hand in front of his face and he dared open one eye. The green covered his whole hand and up into his shirtsleeve. Draco panicked and pulled up his sleeve. It had gone all the way up his arm! He squinted his eyes to look closer and saw scales begin to form and grow larger. This could not be happening. Not on the best day ever!

Soon his back started itching. He finally took off his shirt and looked down. Shiny green scales everywhere, and now his hands began to grow claws! He used the claws to scratch his itchy back and looked around for something he could see his reflection in. Across the aisle and next to his stuffed dragon and the stool, was a mirror, half covered with a sheet. He ran over and snatched the sheet down with a dusty flop.

There, staring at him from in the mirror, was not the face of a little boy, but a very surprised, slightly worried, dragon. He turned 'round where he still continued to scratch his back. Were those...wings? Growing right out of his back. He looked as long as he could when he dropped down on all fours onto newly formed paws. When it was finally finished, he had grown to the size of a hippogriff. No longer Draco Malfoy, a young dragon gazed back.

"Darling, I've finished, where are you?" His mother called.

Draco the Dragon's eyes grew wide and he quickly looked around for a place to hide. His mother could not see him like this! He spied an old wardrobe and turned, but his new wings bumped into everything. He figured out how to fold them down and made it to the wardrobe, realizing then, that he probably wouldn't fit. As a matter of fact, there wasn't anything around that he would fit in.

"Draco, answer me." His mother called worriedly.

Draco the Dragon looked in the direction of his mother's voice. If he didn't answer, she would most certainly be cross.

"I'm here, momma." He called. "But I don't want you to find me."

"Is this a game, my love?" She asked, her voice closer.

Draco the Dragon hid as best he could behind the wardrobe. He tried to tuck his tail in, but it kept moving around on its own.

"No, Momma." He replied as he ducked his dragon head behind the wooden surface.

"Come out from behind the wardrobe, darling. Show me what you've found." She'd spotted him.

"I can't." He answered meekly.

"Why can't you come out?" She asked curiously.

"I'm a dragon."

"Well I happen to adore dragons."

"You do?"

"Indeed I do."

Draco the Dragon peaked his head out from behind the wardrobe and looked at his mother.

"See?"

His mother folded her arms and raised her brows.

"I do." She said and then asked. "How does it feel to be a dragon?"

Draco the Dragon slowly came out from behind the wardrobe.

"Good, I suppose...Though I haven't been one for very long. Will you still love me?" He asked.

His mother walked over and kissed him.

"I will love you even more." She said as she smiled and held out her hand. "I think the rain has stopped, my sweet dragon. Would you like to go outside and stretch your wings?"

Draco the Dragon looked up at his mother, grinned and took her hand.

"I will fly you to the stars and back." He said as they made their way out of the attic and into the pages of legend.

A/N

This was a birthday fic for Mrs. Milfoy's son. He is brilliant, with an imagination that could put mine to shame. I have a feeling I'll be reading him one day.