Disclaimer: The sole purpobse of this story is to calm down my over-imaginative mind.
Author's Note: Thank you so much for your reviews! I'm sorry that it took a while for me to update this story. I hope you will all like it.
CHAPTER 4: QUESTIONS AND DREAMS
"Harry, we need to talk."
Harry closed his Defence against the Dark Arts textbook and looked up to where Hermione was standing.
"About what?"
Hermione resisted the urge to roll her eyes, "we need to hide your wings! Seriously, Harry, we'll be going back at Hogwarts next week. You should have thought of this days ago."
"Sorry, I was thinking... about things," Harry said as he avoided his best friend's eyes.
Hermione sighed, "I know... let's just... head to the library, okay?" with that, Hermione headed towards the Black library. Harry followed afterwards.
**
As soon as the Golden Trio were seated, Hermione opened a huge book.
"So, what do we do now?" Ron asked as he looked at Hermione.
"First, we need to find out how to hide Harry's wings." As soon as Hermione said that, she got two more books and shoved each one to Ron and Harry, "the two of you would help, of course."
"Summer is about to be finished 'Mione! Sure, you can study all you want, since you love doing it, but I need my rest!" Ron whined as he took the book and flipped pages harshly.
"That's exactly it, Ron! Summer is about to be finished. That means you should be getting used to seeing books again."
"But—"
"No buts, Ronald Weasley! Now get back to your book to help Harry," Hermione hissed the last two words, all the while glaring at Ron.
"Fine, but— ow!"
"I said no buts, Ronald."
"Bloody – hey! I did not even say it!" Ron said while he soothed the growing bump on his head.
"I just felt like hitting your head with a book," Hermione smiled innocently.
Ron just grumbled in response, it seems that he finally learned a lesson at keeping his mouth shut.
**
During the entire bickering of his two best friends, Harry decided to zone them out and concentrate at what he was reading. Unlike the majority of books in Hogwarts, this book, entitled Magical Creatures of Great Britain, would not make you drool on its pages out of boredom. Being a normal teenager (yeah right), the content of the book was not the one that caught his attention. Rather, it was the pictures that adorned the pages that caught his attention.
The book itself could be called an art. As he flipped through the pages, he noticed that the artist paid great attention to the details. Every drawing seemed realistic. After a few turns of pages, he finally found what he was looking for: Angels.
However, he noticed something different about the page. In an attempt to find answers, he opened and closed the book several times. It seems the action caught the attention of his two best friends.
"Harry, is there something wrong?"
"Yea, mate. You look like the book caught on fire."
"There's something weird about this book."
Hermione, thinking the book was a dangerous object, decided to approach Harry at the other side of the table. Her eyes suddenly widened in surprise.
"You know, Harry, I think I've mistaken that for a book."
Harry suddenly looked up at Hermione, getting curious.
Hermione seemed to understand the unspoken question, "if you take a look closely, you would notice that it's a journal, not a book."
Harry then looked down upon the book he was holding, "you're right".
As soon as Harry touched the pages of the "book", he realized that indeed, it is a journal. Just looking at the journal, Harry could notice that there was a slight yellowing of the pages. The cover seems to be made of worn brown leather. As soon as he touched the text of the journal, he felt the dent of the quill. When he proceeded to touch the pictures, he felt the impression of pencil. By the looks of it, it has to be a charcoal pencil. However, he did not smear the pictures as he touched them. Maybe it's charmed, he thought to himself as he looked at the drawing of angel.
"That's weird. Why didn't they just buy books about magical creatures, instead of making one?"
"Well," Ron continued as he scratched the back of his head, "pureblood families are proud of their knowledge of the world. You can say that purebloods consider knowledge as another way to showcase their wealth. By making books on their own, the family is able to show to others how much they know about the world, how much they travelled, and other stuff."
"He must be a Black then," Hermione said while looking down at the open book.
"He must really love drawing. Besides that, he's got the talent. Just look at it," Harry said as he looked at the pictures.
"He didn't finish it though." Ron said as he looked at the page about Angels.
"Yea," sitting beside Harry, Hermione only nodded in response.
"There must be a reason why he suddenly left his journal unfinished. Of all the things he could have left unfinished, it's the one we needed."
"From the looks of the drawing, he already saw an angel."
"I don't think that's it," Harry continued, ignoring the bewildered stares of his two best friends, "he put too much detail into the drawing. I think he only followed his mind as to what to draw."
"Do you think there's a name somewhere?" Ron asked.
After a few flips and charms, the three friends found no form of identification on the journal.
"What are we going to do with the journal? It would be a waste if we left it here."
"Harry should keep it."
Harry suddenly looked at Hermione.
"You're the only one who can complete the journal. You could write everything you will discover about yourself. I'm sure the owner would be thrilled, wherever he is."
"Okay," Harry said as he closed the journal.
**
His hair was darker than night.
**
"This is so frustrating!" Hermione shouted while she covered her head with her hands.
"I know what you mean 'Mione, I understand," Ron symphatized with his best friend. Doing nothing but reading the whole afternoon was definitely frustrating.
"Don't even let me get started with you, Ron" Hermione said in a whisper.
After a while, Hermione removed her hands from her head, and she decided to glare at the books in front of her, "none of these books contain any useful information about angels! It's as if—"
"—angels don't exist," Harry said in a calm tone.
"Everything we have read so far contains nothing but angels having wings..." Ron said with a grimace.
Harry sighed, "I just wish these wings would hide for a while."
Harry was expecting his friends to respond to what he said. After a while, neither of his best friends spoke, and as he turned to look at them, he was surprised. His friends were looking at him as if he had grown another head.
"Uh, is something wrong with me?"
"No, Harry. No," Ron said with wide eyes.
"Then what's wrong with the two of you? You look like you've seen McGonagall in a bikini."
"No! What's Ron trying to say here is that nothing's wrong with you," Hermione waved her hands towards Harry as if to emphasize a point.
"Then—"
"You look normal, Harry. You look like a normal person."
Harry proceeded to touch the tip of his wings, a habit he had grown into when he is confused. Somehow, he could just not reach his wings. Out of his confusion, he turned to look at his wings.
Only to find that they were gone.
"I can't believe it! My wings have disappeared!" Harry stood up and started turning like a cat chasing its tail.
"Blimey, mate, you sure have awesome wings," Ron said, still wide-eyed.
After a while, Hermione finally got over the thrill of a new discovery.
"You must be getting dizzy there, Harry. We should go get some lunch for us to have adequate energy since we will be researching again in this library," Hermione said as she proceeded to close all the books, and stacked them up, forming a neat pile.
As if on cue, Ron woke up from his stupor and looked at Hermione, "we're reading, again? Don't we deserve some break?"
"Lunch is break, Ron." With that said, Hermione left the library.
When the three friends reached the dining room, they found that several other members of the Order were there like McGonagall and Tonks.
Once the three were seated, McGonagall coughed to get everyone's attention.
"Mister Potter, no matter how flattering it may be, I deem it inappropriate for my students to talk about me wearing a bikini. Am I right, Mister Potter?"
Harry could only blush like a tomato. He dared to look at the others and found out that most of them were holding back their laughter. Snape, on the other hand, looked like Christmas had come early.
"Yes, Professor."
**
His eyes were as green as emeralds.
**
"Hey, Remus"
Remus turned around to see Harry approaching him, "hi, Harry. I'm sorry if I can't hold back my laughter awhile ago. I really tried—"
"No, it's okay. I would just like to ask about my parents."
At that, Remus' face turned serious, and he closed the book that he was reading, "you should sit down beside me, then,"
Harry smiled and shook his head, "maybe later, it's just one question anyway,"
"Go on then,"
"Uhmm, were my parents angels as well?"
Remus furrowed his brows in thought, "come to think of it, no. James never mentioned such things to me, and Lily might not even know that angels exist outside books. The truth is, I never believed in angels myself, until you showed up with wings, Harry." Harry looked dejected, as if that was not the answer he was expecting.
"Thanks, Remus. I think I should go back now,"
Before Harry left the room, Remus said, "I'm sure there is someone who can answer your answers, Harry."
"Thanks," and Harry closed the door.
As Harry walked along the corridors of Grimmauld Place by himself, he can't help but think...
What if I'm not their son?
**
He was naked, yet black and white feathers covered his whole body.
**
After a few minutes of wandering, Harry suddenly tripped. As he was recovering, he heard someone waking up from slumber. As Harry looked around, his eyes landed on a portrait, the one and only portrait of Walburga Black.
Maybe she won't wake up, Harry thought as he tip-toed away from the portrait. However, even the luck that he used to stop Voldemort killing him did not save Harry this time.
"Blood traitors! You have done nothing but infest this house with your filth! AAAAHHHH!!"
Harry gulped, might as well go back and cast a silencing charm to that portrait. Being the Gryffindor that he was, Harry approached the portrait without any hesitation and his hand was currently holding his wand.
As he faced the portrait, Walburga Black's reddened in anger, "How dare you, half-blood, to even raise a wand at me! You will pay for your insolence! You—," whatever Walburga saw in Harry, it only served to aggravate her temper, "GET OUT OF MY HOUSE! You filthy creature! You have no right to even breathe in this house! How dare my traitor of a son let his blood traitor friends get in this house! You and those traitors are nothing but filth! Filth! GET OUT, NOW!"
Harry could only shake in response to that. He did not know what to say. Everything around him silenced. He suddenly wanted Sirius to be here and defend himself from his mother. He wanted to tell the portrait that Sirius is not a disgrace to wizarding kind. He wanted—
"Potter, is that thick skull of yours of any use at all? It seems that your head did not even know how to use a wand."
Harry knew that voice anywhere. Snape. He was about to respond to that insult when the portrait caught his eyes. Walburga was not screaming anymore, but her mouth still moved, no doubt spouting insults about half-bloods and muggleborns.
"Thank you Professor," Harry said this as head was bowed down. The awkward silence was broken by the rumbling of Harry's stomach, "I should go now."
As he passed by Snape, he heard him say, "Potter, it would be useful to know that one reason a person is a half-blood is because of his parents being a pureblood and a muggleborn."
If Harry didn't know any better, he could have sworn that Snape knew about the question he asked Remus.
If Harry didn't know any better, he could have sworn that Snape was comforting him.
**
He laughed...
and it was infuriating.
Draco Malfoy woke up covered in sweat, "I seriously have some mate issues," he said as he went to the bathroom to wash himself up.
"Twinky!"
A house elf popped up out of nowhere, "yes sir, young master, sir," the elf bowed down, its head almost touching the ground.
As Draco was combing his hair, he asked, "Do you know where my mother is?"
"The Mistress is down in the tea room having a snack, young master, sir,"
As Draco was looking himself up on the mirror, he said, "could you go tell my mother that I would like to talk to her?"
"Of course, young master, sir. Twinky shall tell the Mistress your request, young master, sir," the elf then popped away.
After one final look, Draco deemed himself fine-looking, and he went to go talk to his mother.
**
"Good afternoon, Mother." Draco approached Narcissa to kiss her on the cheek.
"Good afternoon as well. Care for some tea, Draco?" Narcissa said as soon as Draco was seated right across her.
"Uh, sure." As if on cue, the teapot moved on its own to pour tea on a teacup. The cup then floated towards Draco.
After some sipping of tea and biting of biscuits, Narcissa put down her tea cup with a *clink* then spoke, "is there something you would like to ask me, my son?"
Draco, cross-legged, put down the teacup as well, "I was just curious, was there an instance when you got angry simply because Father laughed?"
It was fortunate that Narcissa did not continue on drinking her tea, otherwise she might have choked on it, definitely not something a Black should be seen doing.
"Of course not. Is there something that you should be telling me, my dear?"
Draco looked down at his teacup while he said, "well, I just dreamt of my mate. He... he laughed, and I got angry."
"Oh, dear. There must be something between you and your mate. Now tell me, what did you see in your dreams?"
"The usual dreams I kept having every night, his eye colour and hair colour. This time though, there was another thing besides the laughter,"
At this, Narcissa's curiousity only peaked up, "what was it?"
Draco looked up and looked straight at his mother's eyes, "feathers... lots and lots of feathers. His body was even covered in feathers."
Twinky, once again, popped out of nowhere, "I is sorry to disturb young master and mistress, but young master, sir, is being summoned by Master Malfoy in the Malfoy drawing room."
When Twinky popped into the tea room, Draco turned his head to Twinky. In doing so, he noticed neither the frown on his mother's face nor the clenching of her fists.
"Tell Father that I would go there immediately," Draco said.
"Of course, young master, sir, I is going to tell to Master Malfoy," Twinky then decided to pop out of the tea room.
As Draco turned again to look at his mother, he found that her eyes were looking at him thoughtfully, "Mother, is something bothering you?"
Narcissa's eyes seemed to widen as she was brought back to reality, "I'm fine dear, and you should go and meet your father,"
Draco then stood up and kissed his mother once again on the cheek. As he was about to leave the room he asked, "Are you sure nothing's bothering you, Mother?"
Narcissa only smiled and shook her head "no". Sometimes, her son worried about herself too much.
"I'll be going then," and Draco left.
When her son left, a sad smile can be seen on Narcissa's face, "oh Draco, you should learn to worry about yourself more."
**
"You called, Father?"
"Yes, my son. Have a seat." Lucius Malfoy did not even turn to look at his son. He only looked at the Malfoy gardens through the large window.
"The Dark Lord is inquiring about your mate. Do you know who your mate is already?"
"I do not know, Father,"
"I am truly disappointed at you, my son. Once you are a Death Eater, it would be wise not to disappoint the Dark Lord."
Draco only looked down at his feet, "yes, Father."
"However, mate or no mate, the Dark Lord is still awaiting the day that you and your young friends would receive the Dark Mark."
"Yes, Father."
"Tell me, Draco, are you looking forward to serving the Dark Lord?"
"Yes, Father."
"You should look forward to it, my son. When the Dark Lord rules, there will be no blood traitors anymore in high positions. Only we, the purebloods, would remain forever in the favour of the Dark Lord. He would give us wealth and power over those filthy individuals. Think of all that we could gain once the Dark Lord wins. "
"Yes, Father."
"Very well then, you must be hungry now. Let us go and meet your mother in the dining room, shall we?"
"Yes, Father."
Both father and son left the drawing room. As Lucius continued with his praises to the Dark Lord, Draco could not help but feel one thing that he always felt when his father was around.
Fear.
Author's Note: because of the delay, I decided to make a longer chapter. I did not even know if I could write long chapters, but hey, your reviews helped me out a lot.
Next Chapter: It's September 1! You know what that means? They're all going back to Hogwarts! For those getting sick of just a few characters, you could breathe a sigh of relief now.
Author's Note 2: Everything that you have to say, I will welcome it with open arms! I hope you all enjoyed this!
