A/N: Hello, everybody! Sorry about the reallyyyyy long wait, but I've been busy. I'm studying to test out of classes, working as a part time intern, and a bunck of other crap that has turned my summer into a flop, basically. BUT. I WENT TO THE WIZARDING WORLD OF HARRY POTTER! And I absolutely loved it. So consider it research for the story, because now I have more inspiration then ever xD

Anyways, I hope that you enjoy this story! ….It's shaping out to be a very long muse. So hang tight, and enjoy the ride xD

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Draco glanced at his face in the mirror and sighed. It was Tuesday, and today he was supposed to meet his Ministry appointed legal representative. The man who had phoned him, Dave something-or-other, had informed him that the representative he was receiving was top of the line. That was good. And, much to Draco's further delight, this representative was used to handling high profile cases.

Draco gave out a dark laugh. High profile cases. He doubted that this new representative was used to dealing with someone as in-the-media as Draco Malfoy. In recent years, the Malfoy name had been cleared, and mostly all of it was due to him. He had really turned it around after the war.

While everyone else in Slytherin had been trying to finish school after the war, he had quit Hogwarts and started a business in Diagon Alley. He had produced potions. At first, the potions shop had been slow going, but five years later, here he was. A multi-billionaire bachelor of old and new money. His 'little shop' had turned into an international franchise, with top of the line patented potions that had reinvented modern day potion making.

And now this. Draco let out a slow sigh. It wasn't the end of the world, really. He glanced at the shadows outlining his mirror. Well, maybe it had come close to the end.

He hoped that this representative was what he was looking for.

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Hermione entered the office with a grim expression on her face. So far, this morning was shaping out to be truly hideous. Mr. Grenne, like she had predicted, had organized a huge media rally. They had congregated in the lobby of the Ministry with both members of the local tabloids, and even the recently organized wizard radio show. Upon her apparition into the lobby, they had instantly bombarded her with headlines, all wanting answers from the "Racist Bitch of the Golden Trio".

That was enough to make anyone more than a little irritated.

She had been able to handle it though, until Harry had arrived at the scene. He had caused such an uproar about the serious lack of security from the Ministry guards that he had had to be restrained. However, the rally was dispersed, and all the pictures that had been gleaned from the rally had been confiscated.

Dave had summoned her to his office after that, wanting to debrief her about the official release through the Daily Prophet regarding Mr. Grenne's behavior. And so now here she was, knocking on the door of Dave's office.

"Come in." Dave's muffled voice said tiredly.

Hermione entered the office, immediately sitting the same leather chair that she had vacated the previous morning. Dave looked even more tired today, if that was even possible. Hermione inwardly praised herself on rejecting the Ministry of Magic's offer of letting her head any department of her choosing. She had understood their reasoning behind it, letting the smartest witch of the age, plus one of the original 'Golden Trio', head a Ministry department. It would have been good politics. But looking at Dave's exhausted face, and the creases in his forehead that Hermione had watched manifest in the past three and a half years, she was glad that she had refrained. It would have been too much.

"Well. This morning certainly has kicked off on a bad note, hasn't it?"

Hermione gave a tired smile. "It certainly has. I understand that you have some good news though…" She let the sentence trail off, looking at Dave pointedly.

"Ah. Yes. Mrs. Fink, the chief editor of the Daily Prophet, has prepared an official release article about your side of the events regarding Mr. Grenne. This way, both the Ministry and yourself can remain clean of this mess." After a few seconds of reflection, he added, "I truly am sorry about this mess, Hermione. I wouldn't have given him to you in the first place, but you are the only one who is naturally immune to magical persuasion."

Hermione nodded. She understood, but that still didn't make the incident any sweeter. "So now that my representation for Mr. Grenne has been terminated, am I allowed to know the identity of my new client?"

"Not quite yet. I have to give you the specifics of the case for this one. Unfortunately, this client is of a particular race that hasn't been seen in the modern day wizarding world for over 200 years…" Hermione's eyebrows shot up. 200 years? What magical creature could have escaped wizarding notice for 200 years? And who could possibly be of magical creature lineage and still have maintained a high profile? Intrigued with the facts, Hermione sat back into her seat and fixed her puzzled gave on Dave, waiting for him to continue. "…And quite frankly, I don't know if the Ministry can really contain it." He gave her a defeated smile.

Hermione just stared at him blankly as the works sunk in. A magical creature that would cause such a fuss, the Ministry of Magic would be unable to provide damage control?

"And you're giving this client to me." She said disbelievingly.

Dave nodded. "the Minister seemed to think you were up for the job. And plus, your unique talents are pivotal in this case."

"You mean my immunity to magical persuasion?"

"Yes."

"What kind of magical persuasion does this client possess?"

"We believe, from historical records of this creature, that he possesses both sexual and alpha persuasion abilities." Hermione inwardly groaned. That combination was nasty. Satyrs have sexual persuasion, but they have absolutely no authority to back it up. A creature with both sexual allure and authority…..it could get ugly.

"Alright sir." Hermione said finally. "I'll do it. When is the client scheduled to come in?"

"I believe that he was sent to your office shortly after you arrived in the building."

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"You're the client?" Hermione said furiously. She gripped the doorframe tightly, and the wood groaned underneath her fingertips, her angry magic aiding her strength.

Draco Malfoy, perched on the edge of the desk, just gave a brisk nod of his head. Straightening up, he extended his hand. Hermione ignored it and brushed past him roughly in an attempt to get to her desk. As she made accidental contact with the corner of his shoulder, she froze.

Her shoulder was touching his, and she could feel the magic pulsate through the spacious office. She closed her eyes and gave an involuntary shiver. She heard Draco give a small gasp. Opening her eyes with a snap, Hermione sharply wrenched her body away from his, and the magic faded into the background. She walked behind the desk the placed both hands facedown on the open manila folder detailing Draco Malfoy's personal information. She gave him a steady gaze.

"What the hell was that, Mr. Malfoy?"

"I don't know." He said honestly. Hermione squinted at him, trying to detect the lie on his face. She was very good at detecting false emotion, and all she saw in his chiseled face was surprise. So the magic had been a surprise to him too. That wasn't good. That either meant that the magic had been completely unrelated to his new magical status, or he was completely ignorant of his abilities. Hermione desperately hoped that it was the first. The first wouldn't be her problem. But if she had to do damage control on a high profile magical being who didn't know his limits….

She shivered. What a nightmare that would be.

"Sit down, Mr. Malfoy." He sat without arguing. Hermione almost smiled. He looked quite regal, sitting in the black leather chair with his dark gray suit. He had definitely filled out over the years, and his now statuesque figure looked like it was made for Armani suits. She couldn't even uses what magical being he was.

"First things first." She began. "What are you?"

He started to say something, then paused. "I think I should show you something first." Hermione raised her eyebrow. "It's nothing harmful, I assure you. But I think that you will have an easier time believing me if I show you first." He stood up again, and took off his suit jacket. He then began to unbutton his shirt.

"Mr. Malfoy—

"Don't worry. I'm not stripping in your office. I'm only taking off my shirt. Hopefully that doesn't bother you. I don't know why it would, considering that you've always protested to loathe me." He said in an amused tone. Hermione sat back in a huff. Of course she could control herself. However, as Draco removed the last vestige of his shirt, Hermione felt the seductive tendrils that were radiating off him start to envelop her immediately.

Sexual persuasion had many forms, but the most common form was a type of psychic tendril, which was an unconscious action of the owner. They were referred to by people who had no training as the "natural" attraction of a person. But Hermione knew better, and she could feel the tendrils snaking around her. Draco's were much stronger than most, but even with the added strength they could not break through her natural magical barrier.

Draco gave her his back, and Hermione looked on in amazement. On his pale flesh was a gorgeous, full back tattoo rendering of magnificent wings. They were various shades of blue hue, going all the way from dark blue violet at the shoulder blades to the light sky blue of the flight primaries. She whistled at the detail.

"That is indeed one killer tattoo." She admitted. "But I fail to see how it is relevant to your condition as a magical being."

"The wing tattoo is real." He said dryly.

Hermione blinked. "They're real?" She saw him nod. "Show me." She commanded. Hermione saw his shoulders tighten for a moment at the command in her voice, and she chided herself for forgetting that he had alpha persuasion, which meant that whatever he was, he expected to be the leader. You never try to dominate an alpha. After a moment she saw his shoulders relax, and his back began to morph.

The wings came out slowly, almost gracefully unfolding from the tattoo on his back. They did not seem to inflict pain as they were ejected, because through it all Draco made not one sound. Once out, they spanned what Hermione imagined to be 16 feet across, because her office was 18 feet wide, and the sky blue tips of the wings almost touched the walls.

"They're beautiful." Hermione said frankly.

Draco slowly folded them wings into a semi-upright resting position and rotated to face her. Hermione gasped again. His eyes had changed. Instead of their normal steely gray, they now were a rolling, stormy gray-blue. She looked closer, and was startled to find tiny flashes, as if a real storm was erupting in his irises.

"Thank you." He said. His voice dripped with authority and sex, and Hermione stopped breathing. The power in his voice caused cracks even in her tolerance. Draco Malfoy was a powerful son of a bitch. Whatever he was.

"Can you sit?" She asked carefully. Not in a groveling tone, but in a careful one.

"Only on the stool." He walked over to the stool resting in the corner and sat, gazing at her disconcertingly with the stormy eyes.

"What are you?"

"I am the last in a once great race called the Arkkien."

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A/N: And there's chapter 2. I wanted to make the history of the Arrkien race it's own chapter, so I will be updating the next installment fairly soon. (I hope.) How you all are having a nice summer!

Please review, because it's what keeps me going!