Disclaimer: Nothing is mine.
Warnings: Sap? Nada.
Authors note: Things have been absolutely insane, but hopefully things will calm down by next week and then I'll go back to updating regularly. Sorry guys! This chapter was written out kinda fast, and at night and all that so if you catch any edits let me know!
The first sunny day of February led to many of the inhabitants of the Manor to go outside. It was warm, warm enough for sweatshirts, cloaks, and coats to be left indoors, abandoned for the first time in a while. Draco was lounging comfortably on a large, flat rock by the pond, pretending to keep an eye on the younger children, wading in the pond, splashing one another, and splashing at the nervous goblin children, who had never been swimming before, and were huddled on the beach, but were giggling shyly, squealing as one of the veela children, her long hair catching the sun and glowing a bright gold, pushed them playfully towards the water. Willow and Sage were off on the edge of the thin willow forest Draco's mother had planted when he was a child, with some of the younger centaurs who were chasing each other around, clearly pleased to have time outside in the sun, to stretch their long legs.
Predictably, the resident vampires were indoors, probably sulking somewhere in the dungeon corner they had inhabited, but everyone else was outside, either on the damp grass, drinking in the sun like reptiles sunning themselves, or trying to play the weird muggle game that Prometheus and Styx were trying to teach everyone to play, with an old quaffle. They were kicking it around, and making up rules about how one could handle the ball, and move it, and where they had to move it to get points, and about whether or not it was fair to shove people out of the way for the ball.
Draco was sprawled on the warm rock between Nyx, who was similarly spread out and drowsing in the sun, and Cole, who was curled up, his knees tucked under his chin, arms wrapped around himself, watching the children playing in the pond stoically. Thom, Oliver and Blake, three of the werewolves that Lupin had sent Draco's way were sitting near by, lazily playing cards with Charon, Morpheus and Cratos. The other humans were warming up to the Werewolves, and while on some level Draco understood their hesitancy to just calmly coexist, he found himself slightly irked that the stigma existed at all.
Draco turned his head opening one eye to watch as Nemisis and Tartarus cheated ruthlessly at Prometheus' muggle game, much to the usually stoic boys chagrin, though he dare not tell off his girlfriend much. Eos came barreling out of nowhere, slamming into Nemisis, toppling her over in his valiant attempts to rescue the ball, sending them both skidding across the slick grass while Cerberus, playing a rather apathetic referee (who had no idea how the game was played in the first place) just laughed at them, not bothering to call a foul.
Pan came out from in the castle and perched on the edge of the rock where Draco and Nyx sat, tunring his head towards the sun, closing his eyes.
"This warm in February, huh? Who would've thought?"
At Pan's voice Nyx opened her eyes smiling at him in acknowledgement before closing her eyes again. Draco rolled onto his back and propped himself up on his elbows to survey the lawn. He'd spent a long time as an only child in this house, and it was rare to see this many people looking so lively and unlike the prim and proper playmates his parents had enlisted for him when he was a child.
He surveyed his bare arms, noting the slight pink color they were turning and cursing his pale skin. "I hate it," he said, muttering darkly, prodding his pink tinged skin sullenly. Pan rolled his eyes at Draco's antics.
"Whatever, come on then, Potter is lighting things on fire in your house anyways."
"Pan! Why didn't you start with that. My poor house! It's been burnt enough for one decade, thank you very much. Show me to the heathen, I'll beat this arson setting trend out of him!"
Draco leaped to his feet, tugging Pan after him, giving Cole an automatic smile when the boy hesitated. As soon as Draco smiled, Cole got to his feet nimbly, and trotted after them glancing at the pond one last time before he disappeared into the manor with them.
Cole was understandably drawn to the pond, as it was the largest body of water on the property, and the large part of him that was now under the kelpies magical influences was drawn to the cool, calm depths of any water it could find. The quiet boy was prone to disappearing when people made him nervous, but not because he was a coward, or socially uncomfortable, because he was terrified of himself, and when he got nervous he tended to shape shift. Draco of course, thought that Cole's ability to change his form to anything at will was the most wicked thing that he had ever seen ever, but it just seemed to make Cole feel singled out.
"Potter, Pan tells me you are ruining everything, once again," wailed Draco dramatically, sweeping into the room. Harry didn't even look up from where he was inspecting a goblet suspiciously.
"Oh, whatever, Harry, Pan says you're ruining everything. Have you gone mad? Are goblets speaking to you? Did you get into the centaurs, ahem, herbs again?"
Harry glanced up, and rolled his eyes. "No, nothing is talking to me that shouldn't be."
He put the goblet in the center of the floor, and muttered something, shooting a jet of red light at it, that just bounced off and smacked into the wall, leaving a char mark. "Excuse me, can you please not set my poor house on fire?" Draco whined, crossing his arms, leaning on the door frame.
Harry rolled his eyes, and crouched by the goblet, evaluating it. After a long silence, where he appeared to be glaring the cup into submission, Cole quietly asked, "What are you doing?"
"I need to destroy it, but nothings working."
"Ah yes, fie on goblets and their evil ways," muttered Draco, winking at Cole, who was smiling a small, amused smile. Harry rolled his eyes, and sighed, rising.
"You know. You could help," he offered turning to face Draco and Cole.
"Why? What did the poor cup do?"
"Come on, I'm the savior and things, warrior of goodness and what not you're always going on about, can't you just trust me?"
Draco sighed wearily, and waved his hand dismissively. "Fine, fine, fine, come along then, we need more room."
They walked to the main hall, the biggest, tallest space that didn't have people housed in it, that wasn't outside. Draco turned to Cole, meeting the skinny werewolf's eyes speculatively. "You know what I'm thinking, kiddo?"
Cole nodded, his face serious.
"You up for it?"
Cole nodded again, taking a step forwards, gesturing quietly at Harry to put the cup down.
Harry did so, then moved back, and he and Draco stood along the wall, behind Cole. Cole took a deep breath, closed his eyes, put his arms out, and as he began to transform, the magic pulsing through his body could be tasted on the air, static and dangerous. He grew, and expanded, his limbs lengthening, growing wings, leathery and scaly. A small welsh dragon crouched in the entry way, snorting, carefully moving his head lower to aim at the goblet. He took a deep breath in, and blew, hot white flames leaping out of his shortened snout, the smell of burning pulsing through the air, as the fire engulfed the small golden cup. Cole let out a long, deep breath of fire, then stopped, and turned, stamping out the flames with his powerful hind legs and tail, shaking the house as he stamped. He looked over at Draco and Harry, and when Draco nodded slightly, he closed his eyes, and his transformation back down to a human happened much faster, his body falling through the transformation and when he was a human again, his knees buckled, and Draco moved forwards to catch the small boy, in the same moment that Harry rushed forwards to inspect the melted, twisted, charred blob of metal that was once the cup.
Draco didn't bother waiting to see what Harry thought of the cup, he put his arm under Cole's small frame, supporting most of his weight as he moved him towards the Lair. "Did I do alright?" Cole asked tiredly, his husky low voice, always so unexpected from his small frame, was hoarser than usual.
"Yeah, 'course ya did, come on, lets let you lay down," Said Draco, lifting him easily through the door, leaving the tapestry open, setting Cole down on his bed. The moment Cole's head his the pillow, he was out like a light. Draco yawned, and got up, deciding to go check back on Potter, and check on the entrance hall to make sure all the flames were really out.
Harry was crouched a few feet from the melted metal, waiting for it to cool. Draco wandered over, standing slightly behind him, arms crossed. Harry glanced over his shoulder, and smiled. "Thanks, I think it's destroyed."
Draco nodded, feeling a weird twist in his gut at the other boys grateful smile.
"Will the little guy- Cole right? Will he be alright?"
"Yeah, he should be alright, he just needs to rest. This magic, it takes a long time to get used to, and our bodies can't handle it, and sometimes if we use too much, the human part of our bodies get left behind, need to rest, so once he sleeps for a while, he'll be alright."
"Can you turn into a dragon?" Asked Harry curiously, moving back to sit cross legged instead of remaining crouched on the blackened floor.
Draco laughed, and sat down next to him. "No, I wish. They didn't put anything that can shape shift crazily like that in me."
"Yeah?" Harry's voice was nonchalant, but his eyes were darting over to Draco and then away in the least sneaky manner possible. Draco resisted snickering at the Gryffindors lack of social grace, and just nodded vaguely. When Harry looked slightly crestfallen, Draco opened his mouth to respond, nearly against his will.
"Well we're both werewolves, but other than that, they pretty much changed us. You know. Not human anymore, so might as well make us useful wastes of wizards. They want animals, soldiers, they can control, that aren't as stupid as trolls, and can take orders, and be bribed. It's mostly just a ruse for Voldemort looking for a way to live forever, you know."
"You aren't wastes of space."
Draco nodded, quietly. They sat in silence for a moment, watching the air around the melted metal shimmering with the heat it was giving off.
"What is it?" Asked Draco eventually, nodding his head at the slowly cooling blob of charred gold.
"Voldemort is storing bits oh his soul in famous wizarding artifacts, another attempt at living forever I guess."
Draco nodded, not wanting to know what disgusting blood magic would probably be used to get ones soul to shatter apart. He immediately regretted asking. Voldemort made him sick, it made him feel odd, and old, and angry, and sick.
After another few long minutes Potter spoke again. "Do you wish you were never bitten?"
Draco paused, hugging his knees up to his chest, considering the question carefully. "No. I regret how it happened, I'm angry at the wolf that did it, I'm mad about why it was done, but I don't regret this path, and I don't think I would've been brave enough to turn away from my family had it not been for this. I didn't know they would go this far, before, and I didn't know they would dismiss me so easily. And there's something comforting about knowing that they're afraid of me, afraid enough to send my own father after me. And the whole pack bonding is actually sort of nice, like having a real family."
Another long silence hung in the air, while both boys digested what Draco had said.
"You would've still done it though, Draco. Saved yourself."
Draco didn't move a muscle not letting his body betray the slight pleasure that he felt, the smugness at hearing Harry use his given name. He should chastise him, tell him not to use his real name, but there was a weird warmth in his belly that kept his mouth shut.