Easy As Lying

AN: Hope you enjoy the second chapter. This update's for silentmayhem, my first favorite.

Enjoy.

-MW

Chapter 2: Inheritence

The first thing I'm aware of as I come to is the fact that I'm sticky and wet and cold. My eyes sting from prolonged unexposure to air as I slowly peel them open. As I look around, all I can think through the hazy fog drifting through my mind is that I'm so glad my aunt isn't here. She'd be screeching that I got blood on her floors and that the tile was imported from Greece…Who imports tile from Greece? Anyways, the room is covered in blood. The walls, the floors, the cupboards, I don't know how but I even got some on the ceiling. I groan and blink my eyes slowly as I try to figure out what happened. All I remember is counting down the seconds to my sixteenth birthday…I slap my hand to my forehead and wince at the following pain in my biceps. Of course. One of the things my parents briefly skimmed over in my schooling was creature inheritances. We didn't go over it in detail because there weren't supposed to be any creature genes in me. But one thing I do remember is the fact that creatures come into their inheritances at between 16 and 21 years of age and that it's extremely painful. That must be what happened because I have no other explanation. Now all that's left to do is figure out what I am and tell Charlie. Oh, and hide it from my "family". Why am I not panicking? I probably will in a few days, after it's truly sunk in.

I start cataloging body parts to make sure all the important ones are still attached. Arms? I wiggle them weakly. Check. Head? Check. Legs? I wiggle my legs and grimace at the sharp stab of pain that travels up my leg from my shin. That's bad, but I can still feel pain so…Check? I try to use my abused muscles to sit up and groan at the answering soreness. But at least it's soreness and not blinding pain. Well, except for my leg. That might become a problem if it's broken. I think I might have banged it on the table as I fell down. I lean forward to assess the damage on my shin and feel a heavy weight pulling on my back. I can roll my shoulders easily, so it can't be that. I turn my head slowly as to not pull any muscles and gasp at what's spread out on the floor behind me. A grin nearly splits my face in half as I stare. No freaking way. It's just too awesome, too unbelievable, but still remains the fact that I have wings. I mean yeah, they're covered in blood and I don't have any feeling in them yet, but that'll change once I start massaging them. They're dragon wings so I know what to do because I wasn't on a scholarship field trip at a dragon reserve for nothing. Newborn dragons don't have any blood in their wings when they're born, so their mother uses her nose to massage the blood into flowing. I reach back and feel my back where the wings were connected. The torn flesh is still bleeding weakly, so that must be where all the blood is coming from. I bite my bottom lip and jump at the answering sting.

OUCH! That hurt! I bring one of my hands up to my mouth and touch my canines. They're pointed and sharp. I grin ferally and I'll bet I look pretty scary right now, if a little (lot) beat up. The stiffness and soreness in my arms is starting to fade as I use them so I should probably try to stand up and walk around to get the blood in my legs flowing again. Speaking of flowing blood…I think I'll tend to my wings first. My grin widens considerably. I still can't believe I have wings and that I'm probably some part dragon creature. Charlie's gonna freak. I gingerly grab the far corner of my right wing and slide my hand over the blood covered scales. Now that I think about it, I'm just going to firecall Charlie so he can come and help me out. Two birds with one stone. The fireplace is in the other room so I use the table right next to me to hoist myself to my feet. I wince once more as my shin twinges, but I don't think it's broken; only bruised to the bone. I limp slowly into the floo room and collapse breathlessly in front of the fireplace. I grab some floo powder from the container that I levitate down from the mantle. I throw the powder into the fireplace and yell "Charlie Weasley" into the green flames. I wait for a minute for Charlie to answer the call. Sure enough, after about three minutes of having my breath back, Charlie's face appears in the embers.

"Tempest?" he calls tentatively. He's probably wondering why I'm calling at five o'clock in the morning my time. There is a time difference, but I don't know exactly how long it is.

"Yeah. I'm here." Charlie turns to the sound of my voice, but I'm probably barely close enough for him to see. "Can you come through? It's extremely important." I add the last part because he looks like he's about to say he had to go, but he could come over later. As it is, he sighs.

"Fine you manipulative little storm." He smiles to show he's joking. His head disappears from the flames. I back away from the fireplace as it flares and Charlie steps through in his full dragon wrangling gear. His wand is in a wrist holster and he has two machetes slung across his back, crisscrossed for easy drawing in tricky situations. He looks around and spots me on the floor. The look of gentle endearment on his face disappears as he takes in my current state. "What in Morgana's name happened to you?" He demands as he overcomes his shock and sits on the ground to check me for injuries. I push away his hands with a smile.

"Charlie, the best thing ever just happened."

"Tempest, you're covered in blood. Again, what happened?" I smile triumphantly and turn around so he can see my wings.

"I came into a creature inheritance. I didn't know I was going to because my parents didn't think there was any creature blood in either of their lines. It hurt a lot, but it was worth it because, look Charlie, I have wings." I grab my right wing and bring the numb appendage around my body to show him as he just kind of stares at me incredulously. Then, slowly, he grins at me and starts laughing.

"That's brilliant. That's bloody brilliant!" He bellows, finally overcoming his shock. I smirk.

"Glad you think so too. Can you help me clean up and massage my wings? I can't really reach."

"Of course." He replies. He takes his wand out of his wrist holster and casts a quick cleaning spell on my exposed back. I shiver as a cold feeling tingles on my back, but I can't really feel anything from my wings as they're still bloodless and gray. The true color will show once blood is flowing through them. He quickly has me lying on my back and is massaging the base of my wing where it connects to my back. "Just a warning. This might get a little tingly and uncomfortable." His words are proven true when I start feeling pins and needles wherever he massages. I try to stay still, but I can't help a little squirm as he nears the tip of my left wing. He finishes the first wing and moves onto the second. "The pins and needles will fade in a sec, but I need you to hold still till I'm done, K?" I nod my consent to his admonishment. Again, his advice is proven needed when the pins and needles leave and I get the urge to flap my wings as hard as I can. I fight the instincts and struggle to hold myself still as Charlie finishes up the second wing. He leaps away from me as soon as he's finished. It's almost like he knows a little about newborn dragons (I wonder why?) because he would've gotten hit as I leap up and spread my wings. Charlie gasps. "Tempest. They're beautiful." I feel a strong surge of pride rush through me as I examine my wings. They turned colors while he massaged them and now they're deep black shot through with the telltale white streaks of an unmated dragon. As soon as I'm mated the streaks will turn the colors of my dominant mate's wings. I feel a strange tug at my heart as I look at these empty places on my wings. I turn to Charlie.

"Thank you Charlie." I whisper, still in awe of my own wings.

"Anytime, my little Tempest. I have to go back though. We have a mother giving birth back at the reserve. It's not urgent, but they'll probably need my help soon. Anything else you need?" I shake my head. "Well ok then. I expect you to find out what you are and then tell me all about it ok, kid?" I nod once more and he turns to go. "Oh and Tempest? Happy birthday, sweetheart." I smile at him and manage a weak "Thanks for the cake" in return. The fire flashes and Charlie is gone. Then I fall asleep.

I stare at myself the beautiful creature on the wall at the far end of the lavish landing. I flap my wings weakly and bare my teeth in what I hope is a threatening expression. I wince when she shows her own sharp canines and flutters her wings. She must be dangerous because she's covered in blood except for her wings; the color of her long waist-length hair hidden by the blood matted into it. The creature shifts sideways slightly as I adjust my weight, giving me a clear view of the intimidating markings swirling across her arms and stomach, and probably around to her back, in intricate black designs that simply exude power. I bare my teeth once more and growl at her because I need to get past her so I can shower. The fog that was clouding my mind before I fell asleep has dispersed, leaving my mind clear and sharp. My senses also seem to be heightened; I can smell the roses in the indoor garden at the other side of the house, hear the mice squeaking to each other in the attic of the many-floored Greengrass Manor, I can even taste the blood in the air drifting from the kitchen where I woke the first time...I'll probably clean that up soon. After I take my shower.

I return my attention to the beautiful humanoid creature before me and realize something; something important. The Greengrasses have a mirror on that wall of the landing. Oh gosh, I am such an idiot! The realization shocks me to no end because that means that that beautiful, deadly, graceful, powerful, frightening, intimidating creature that simply oozes power... is me. I rip my eyes away so that I can focus on getting my feet up the stairs without tripping because of the disorienting lightness of my body. I finally reach the top of the staircase and I have to mentally quash the desire to look back at her...me. Did I really change that much?

My shower is heavenly and it's great to feel clean again, instead of like the stickiness will never leave. I'm shocked at how much blood was actually in my now long hair. It took three washes and a whole bottle of Astoria's really nice shampoo. It's scented like pumpkin juice because apparently that's "Draco's favorite smell". That girl's obsession cannot be healthy, for anyone. Anyways, my hair grew at least a foot, so now it brushes my butt as I walk and it's super annoying. I jumped at the feeling more than once as I got ready to take my shower. My hair turned from a pleasant brown color with a slight fluffiness to it, to a deep mahogany streaked through with deep scarlet and hints of my original color that swirls in tight ringlets. I think the fluffiness will go away because my hair feels silky and smooth even while wet. I wonder how long it would be if it was straight?

I hop out of the shower once all the blood is gone and freeze, once more in shock. I look at myself in the mirror and I barely recognize myself. The markings I caught a glimpse of in the mirror earlier are even more pronounced now that they aren't covered in blood. They swirl in bold lines across my stomach, creeps up the outside curves of my breast, and wraps around my bicep three times before ending in a small swirl. There's some on my back too, these ones seem to be thicker and darker, the ones in the front seem to speak of romance and intimacy while the ones on my back convey a sense of power and strength. However, the ones that are the most captivating are the ones on my face. These markings are of the deepest black and form a sort of mask around my eyes consisting of a complicated maze of lines that center around my eyes, curling every which way, but never intersecting. I notice that I have lost all baby fat I had left and my muscles from working with the dragons on the reserve are more pronounced. I'm also...much...much...much less flat-chested. Not even my eyes were left unchanged. The previously dark gray irises have deepened to a pitch black with bright, noticeable silver streaks in them. Pretty much, I had turned from a moderately good-looking girl into a beautiful, voluptuous woman in the space of a few hours. Then a thought struck me. How am I supposed to hide this? How am I supposed to even put my clothes on!?

I can barely start to freak out about this when my wings start folding into my back on their own and the markings on my face fade. However, the ones on my arms, stomach, and back move up to my collarbone and form the most beautiful tattoo I've ever seen. It's a pitch black dragon with its wings and tail outstretched as it breathes iridescent fire onto the skin above it. I walk across the room to my trunk of muggle clothes and pull out a pair of size adjusting muggle skinny jeans and a neon yellow crop top with a viridescent lace over-shirt. They are my only size-adjusting clothes. I put then on and I…actually like the result. Maybe I should dress like this more often now that I have the body for it. The lace over-shirt shows off my tattoo extremely well. I can't wait to go to school and have all the males fight to be my mate. My wings burst out of my back, but I hardly notice, I'm too lost in my visions of men fighting over me. I know what I'm doing. Unmated submissives preen to attract males to them. I stop my thoughts right there and focus on drawing my wings into my back. It works after a few minutes of intense frustration, then I decide to let them out because no one's home and when they're in I get a cramped feeling even if I'm in a spacious room like the living room I have to pass through on my way to the library.

Speaking of the library, I should probably look up what I turned into last night. I glance at the clock. 9 o'clock. I've been some awesomely weird dragon hybrid for four hours. I make my way to the library humming my favorite American song* and groan when I reach the ginormous entryway. Astoria took all 25 house-elves to help her with her wardrobe. Then I realize that I can call one of the Wilde house-elves.

"Tippy?" A crack from behind me alerts me to the presence of my favorite elf from my childhood. I spin around, adopting my snobby pureblood attitude as I go. "Ah, Tippy. I need you to find all the books in this library that factually mention dragon-human hybrids."

"Yes, Lady Wilde." I feel a thrill at the use of my title. This is, after all, what my parents trained me for. I relish the chance to put my pureblood mask in place and actually use the wits that so often get me in trouble to a higher purpose. I don't let my joy show on my face because I'll need to practice if I want to be able to successfully traverse pureblood circles. However, I frown at the doorbell ringing. The Greengrasses aren't due back for another few days, so there's not any reason for anyone to be coming over. As far as anyone knows, there's no one home.

I walk toward the entry hall quickly, and scowl at the front door coming into view as the person on the other side rings the bell again. Rude. I pause in front of the door to wipe the scowl off my face before I open it. I take a deep breath and open the door. I almost drop my pleasant expression when I see an extremely irate redhead with his hand raised to push the bell…again.

"Hello, what may I do for you today?" I say pleasantly. Well, mostly pleasantly. It was only a tiny bit condescending.

Tiny bit.

Tiny.

Cough.

The boy's scowl lightens as he notices who answers the door, he seems to be about a year younger than me. I have to resist slamming the door in his face when he looks me up and down with a leer on his face.

"Hello, beautiful. We're having a game of Quidditch next door and we wondered if anyone here wanted to play. I can promise you'll enjoy riding on the broom I'll let you use." He waggles his eyebrows badly and suggestively. I smile pleasantly at him already forming a response in my head more eloquent and humiliating than 'go screw yourself'.

"What's your name?"

"Ron Weasley." I almost start at the name of Charlie's youngest brother. He's obviously never been popular and never will be with that sneer, greedy pig. I can see triumph rise in his eyes as he starts to think I'll accept his invitation. I take a deep breath through my nose and instantly regret it. Who knew greed smelled so bad? I smile again.

"Sorry, Ron Weasel. I don't play Quidditch with beginners. Plus, I wouldn't ride on that broom for a million galleons." I laugh haughtily at the shocked expression on his face. Then I close the door.

"Books is ready, Lady Wilde."

"Thank you Tippy. Let's go find out what I am."

*Centuries by Fall Out Boy