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 2: Of A Phoenix

"WAKE UP, YOU LAZY ARSE!" Uncle Vernon yelled, pounding on the door to Harry's tiny room. Without waiting for a response, the overweight man barged inside, stopping dead in his tracks at the sight that greeted him. The entire room was coated in a thick layer of ash, and the area where the bed had been was now a charred section on the floor. Vernon stood, gaping in confusion at the room. This was all the boy's fault, surely. His kind were dangerous, and the state of this room reaffirmed his belief in this fact. He humphed in contempt. As soon as he got his hands on that boy…

Vernon's gaze landed on a bright pile of feathers in the corner of the room. He waddled over and prodded the mass with the toe of his boot. The mass of feathers quivered, and the distinctly recognizable face of Harry emerged and blinked at the pudgy man standing over him.

"Wha..?" Harry mumbled, eyes bleary with fatigue and pain. Vernon gasped and quickly shuffled backwards away from the feathered boy.

"You're… feathers…sorcery…" Uncle Vernon sputtered. Then he turned and ran from the room, calling for Petunia and Dudley to get in the car.

Harry got weakly to feet. What had happened last night? He remembered Fawkes strange visit, and then the clock turning to midnight, then…nothing. Harry surveyed the disaster of a room he now occupied. He sneezed as the thick grey ash stirred around him from his movements. A streak of orange appeared in his peripheral vision. Harry turned his head violently over his shoulder only to shriek in surprise at the sight of brightly colored wings attached to his upper back. Harry looked straight ahead again and started to panic. What had his sixteenth birthday brought him?

Without thinking, Harry rushed to the bathroom down the hall and proceeded to stare at the reflection of himself for the next ten minutes. The first thing he noticed was his eyes. Glowing amber eyes gazed back at him, flecks of gold and red enhancing the irises. Next were the wings. Harry turned around and tried to crane his head to see them in the mirror. They were long and graceful, each and every feather a different hue of red, orange, and yellow. They peaked a fraction of an inch above his shoulders and came down to the middle of his calves. Harry immediately wanted to go outside and try his hand at flying, damn the consequences of anyone seeing him like this. It was then that the teen realized he was stark naked.

The ashes, he thought. There must have been a fire. Fawkes. The pieces started to click together. Am I a phoenix? Harry wondered to himself. Turning to retreat from the bathroom, Harry clumsily banged his wings against the doorframe. A loud squawking sound filled the hallway as Harry recognized slight pain was coming from his new appendages. Had he made that sound? Trying to replicate the noise, the raven-haired boy opened his mouth and a shrill bird cry came out again. Harry closed his mouth shut with a snap, shuddering at the strangeness of it all.

He returned to his ash-covered room and pulled his school trunk out of the cramped closet. He sighed in relief as he remembered it was imbued with protection charms and had suffered no damage from the previous night. Pulling on some jeans and wrapping the rest of himself in his Hogwarts robe, Harry made his way over to Hedwig. With the Dursleys' run off at the sight of Harry, he could now send his owl out without fear of the consequences.

Dear Dumbledore,

Last night Fawkes paid me a visit around midnight. Something strange happened, and I have been physically changed.

Harry bit at the end of his quill. He knew the Ministry liked to read owls, and if this one was intercepted, he didn't want them after him again. Not after what happened in the Department of Mysteries. He shrugged. The old man would just have to deal with his vagueness.

I am alright, but I would like to know what has happened. Contact me soon.

HJP

Harry tied the note to Hedwig's leg and opened the window for her. Watching her fly away awoke a sudden urge to jump out the window and fly the letter himself, but he restrained. Stepping away from the window, Harry made his way downstairs to relieve the Dursley's of some of their food. He was famished, probably from the transformation last night. He stepped down a single stair…and promptly tumbled down the rest of the flight. Harry groaned; he lay in a jumbled heap in the entryway, robe gone from his torso and wings squashed beneath him. He shook his head and fumbled around a bit on the floor before finally regaining his feet and going to the kitchen.

An entire sandwich and most of the Dudley's chocolate milk jug had already been devoured when the doorbell rang. Harry answered the door to Dumbledore, realizing he had forgotten to put his robe back on when the headmaster frowned slightly at him. Then there was a half-concealed gasp as Dumbledore saw Harry's eyes. The teen quickly ushered him in and shut the door behind him.

"Harry, my boy, what's happened?" Harry shrugged, and the top of his wings came into view with the motion. Dumbledore's keen eyes noticed. "What have you got on your back?"

Harry hesitated. He didn't know what the elder would say once he recognized the wings attached to Harry's back. Then he made up his mind and slowly turned around to show the headmaster. He wanted answers; that's why he had sent the owl. Harry heard a sharp intake of breath behind him, the heat of Dumbledore's stare making his wings quiver.

Harry turned back around to meet the anxious headmaster's eyes. "You said Fawkes visited you last night?" Dumbledore asked.

Harry nodded. "Around midnight." The ageing old man motioned for Harry to join him at the kitchen table. The teen sat down slowly, arranging his wings around him by hand.

"Tell me everything you remember." And Harry did, mentioning the flash of light, showing him the ashes covering his room, and how Vernon had fled at the sight of him. At last Dumbledore gave a long-suffering sigh. "By all appearances, it seems you have turned into a partial phoenix, Harry." The teen nodded in confirmation. "I've no idea how or why this has happened, but it has, and we must deal with the reciprocation of that now. Gather your things, Harry, you may stay the duration of the break at Hogwarts."

The raven-haired boy shot out of his chair in joy and ran upstairs to gather his things. No more Dursley's for the rest of the summer, he thought in glee. In mere minutes, Harry was downstairs again, Hedwig's cage sitting on his trunk and robe once again wrapped around himself. Dumbledore vanished Harry's things with a flick of his wand and turned to face the sixth-year. "Ready?"

"Yes, sir," the half-phoenix said, placing his hand on Dumbledore's offered arm. The two Apparated to Hogwarts with a loud pop.