[Draco]
The next morning, Draco has woken up early and gone for a walk. His mind was too overloaded for him to sleep and he got fed up of just lying there. Walking around the castle was interesting at 4am, it was quiet and just looked magical from the morning sun. For some reason, Draco ended up standing in front of the Headmaster's office.
He'd walked around for a good half an hour thinking about what Voldemort had said and what he should do about it. He was utterly confused about everything so he went to the wisest man he knew. Draco said the password and climbed the steps. He stood in front of the door realising it was stupidly early and the Headmaster was probably asleep...
"Come on in Mr Malfoy." Draco jumped when a voice spoke from behind him. He snapped around to see Dumbledore stepping off the revolving staircase. Draco raised a questioning eyebrow and followed him in to the warm office. Dumbledore opened the curtains to the few windows and then sat behind his desk and offered Draco a chair.
"So, to what do I owe this early visit?" He asked.
"I need your help." Now it was Dumbledore's turn to raise an eyebrow. "The other night, I overheard my father and The Dark Lord talking about me." Draco repeated the conversation he had heard and paused. "Then there's the paintings my mother drew which relates to it and I don't know what to do." He sighed looking at the floor.
"Draco, what do you think of the story about the Red Children?" Dumbledore asked calmly and waved his wand to make a 2 cups, 2 saucers and small tea pot appear and poured them both a cup.
"Myths, fairytales." Draco shrugged and took the cup out of politeness.
"Fairytales?" Dumbledore asked slightly shocked.
Draco felt a confused frown pull at his face. "Yeah, my mother read it to me from a very early age.." That made Dumbledore look even more shocked.
"Draco, 'The Red Children' has horror and bloody violence and sex and a few aspects of Satanism. I highly doubt many people see it as a fairytale." He said arching his fingers together. "Compare it to something from 'The Tales of Beedle the Bard'. It's more of a horror story than anything." He stared at Draco sadly.
"I never really noticed that before." He said thinking hard. "I was always intrigued by the Guardians." Draco said looking back up to Dumbledore, who sighed and stood up. He walked around the desk and sat on the corner in front of Draco.
"Draco, you must understand that I am risking a lot from what I am about to tell you. Not for my safety, but for yours and Miss Granger's." Draco frowned, utterly confused at what he meant. "When the eldest son of my family becomes a man, he is told something by his father. Something that has been passed down for centuries and we are one of the few families that know about this left in the world." Dumbledore paused and took a deep breath. "The story of the Red Children is no myth. Over a thousand years ago, it really happened."
Draco froze in shock. WHAT? His mind did all the freaking out for him. "So, all that time ago, there really was a war between Zane and Ethan?" He asked. "Those things really existed?" He voice was low and quiet, the only way he could keep it sounding calm. Dumbledore nodded slowly and Draco leaned back in his chair, running his hands though his hair.
"So..." His face creased with confusion as everything processed in his mind. The Guardians only appear when one of the Children have been awoken...Draco must be around someone who's a descendant. If by chance Narcissa was right and he is a fallen...Draco thought back to the painting of him, facing away, walking in to darkness. He remembered seeing thin, red lines that dripped slightly with blood on his back that formed an upside down 'V'.
"I can tell you realise those scars on your back aren't from surgery when you were born." Dumbledore said quietly. Draco lifted his head slowly.
"But, it's impossible.." He breathed, praying that this was some sick dream.
Dumbledore shook his head and stood up once more, walking over to one of the bookshelves that covered one of the walls and took out a thick book. He flicked through the pages and placed the book on the desk in front of Draco. "From what I can gather, you are the reincarnated descendant of Artemis, The fallen Angel who later became The Archangel." He pointed to the aged drawing.
Draco saw an incredibly handsome man, sitting on a throne, his dark wings spread out behind him. On the steps below him were two more people. One was a beautiful woman who had white wings, but they were a lot smaller than the man on the throne and to her left, the opposite side of the throne was a boy who must have been the same age as Draco. He had elegant black wings spread out behind him as he leaned forwards, elbows resting on his knees. The boy wasn't smiling, in fact he wasn't showing any facial emotion which made him all the more recognisable.
"He looks exactly like me.." Draco whispered.
"That is Sariel. Angel of guidance, son of Artemis the Archangel and Hadraniel, Angel of love." Dumbledore said slowly so Draco could take all this in.
"So, you're telling me that I'm the reincarnation of Sariel. A Guardian?" Draco asked breathing deeply. Dumbledore nodded. "How did my mother know?"
"Visions in her dreams. Mother's intuition? Her insanity wasn't an illness. The easiest way to explain this is if you pretend that Hadraniel possessed your mother at times, causing her to go insane and forget things. But she only did this because seeing such a powerful force like Voldemort use you like that was killing your previous mother. It reminded her too much of what happened before in your previous life."
Draco sat there for a minute, trying to think, to see if he could remember anything from his past life. "The darkness." He muttered. "The darkness called out to me..Sariel and he fell for their tricks but when he realised, it was too late and he had already been banished and fell." He saw small flashes of a dark mist and saw the wings being ripped off the boy, his scars burning.
"I think it wasn't only the Angel of Love's influence, your mother loved you an incredible amount and she was deeply saddened by Voldemort using you. Her own feelings were entwined with Hadraniel's which probably increased her insanity. I'm sorry." Dumbledore said quietly.
Draco took a deep breath and rubbed his eyes. "I don't believe this. It's just so..." Draco trailed off and looked at the floor.
Dumbledore let the silence pass for a few minutes before speaking again. "Do you ever feel like the walls seem to restrict you, they suffocate you and the only place you're ever truly relaxed is when you're out in the open? Or flying on your broom?"
"Lately, yes. I always loved flying but...ever since she left, it seems to be getting harder to stay inside." Draco said quietly but then something struck him. "The Fallens were immortal weren't they? So how can I be a reincarnation?"
"The darkness. Sariel fell in love with a girl on earth and when he asked his father if he could go down to her, Artemis forbade it which made Sariel angry. The darkness offered to overthrow Artemis with Sariel's help and then he would be able to bring the girl up to Heaven with him. He was always in his father's shadow even though he was destined for great things and the darkness offered him everything he wanted, but when Artemis found out and banished him, it made the Darkness angry that Sariel hadn't managed to kill his father and so it made him mortal anyway but killed the girl right in front of him and eventually he died." Dumbledore said slowly.
Draco clutched his head as everything started to become too much for him. "I think...I-I need to..let this sink in." He muttered and stood up, leaving the room. Draco walked speedily back to the common room through the empty castle, everything looking a lot more forlorn that is had half an hour ago. Slamming the portrait door a little harder than he meant to, he ran to his room.
Hermione was sound asleep still, he stood in front of his long mirror. His face was pale and clammy, his eyes had dark circles under them and his lips were cracked and dry. With hands trembling, Draco took off his jumper and shirt and turned around slowly. His scars burned against his back, gleaming in the faint sunlight that streamed through the windows. He felt his breath stop short, when dim memories of his, long, dark wings being ripped off seeped in to his mind.
His entire life had been a lie. Everything.
"Why. Why now am I remembering?" He muttered.
A/N Hope everyone is liking the story and that all that wasn't soo confusing :) R&R