Chapter 1
United States of America
Spring of 1983
Draco was walking alongside the line that constituted the woods of their home. The green leaves dance under the onslaught of the warm wind. The smell of saline, not always found in his new home, invading his nostrils. The sky looked like the pictures on his good night reading book with the presence of the rising sun.
Still, he loved to walk here, surrounded by grass, trees and small animals.
He was sure the woods weren’t part of their property per se, but he loved the smell of the pines and the other trees all around him; the sound of the chirping birdies this early in the morning, when the sky is pink and purple and gold and blue. The soft caress of their leaves whenever they happened to fall from a tricky branch.
But more than anything, he loved the peace and the soft whispers of the place. His mother always had told him to mind where he stood amongst the forest, because it could be home of beasts, sometimes the home of small bugs and beings that will not be happy if he stepped on them by accident. She assured him that a few dangerous creatures took the old place as their current home and she would be the most displeased if he ever upset those creatures.
Because, strangers in one’s home could mean just one thing: a disrespectful person. And Draco had the best manners thanks to his mother.
So, he minded where he went, especially during the winter, when a lot of creatures were sleeping softly. Now, in the middle of whatever season has a lot of flowers, he was sure he could befriend a few of the beasts he hadn’t met before… Before he was caught purple-handed trying to do so.
He was supposed to be watched by their house elf but she was currently trying to help his mother to bake a few things for his playmate's mother and the new baby that was to come out of her belly any day now. Preparing for the new baby.
"I think it is enough chocolate for these cookies, Dragon," she had whispered, had kissed his cheek and put the goodies on the oven. “Go play outside, baby.”
Now among the trees, he wondered; how could she just eat her own baby. Did his mother eat him too and then, puff he was outta her? How could anyone eat a child? Was her mother a dark witch for eating him when he was just a bean? Was it because of the bean-size that mothers end up eating their kids? And why do husbands never eat beans? Why always the females?
He was sure he was taught that babies are first a bean, or the size of a bean, or something related to a bean. Was he born as a bean and then turned himself into a baby wizard? Are all babies first beans and then wizards? Are muggles first the size of a rice seed and then muggles or do they get to be beans first that later turned into muggles?
When did the magic enter their veins? Heart?
How can anyone know the difference of what kind of bean they are eating if everyone’s a bean during their first days of life? Maybe, wizards douse their beans in potions and then eat their beans. And if everyone is a bean, how can they come from a stork?
Beans were plants and storks were birds and babies were humans...
That made zero sense. He hoped there was no number lower than cero, but his knowledge about numbers under cero and upper than one million was scarce. Maybe, he should find a book and read about beans, potions, wizards, muggles and numbers.
He was a big boy after all. He needed to raise all the fingers of his hand now to show everyone how old he is. He is five years-old and two quarters. It was good information, because banks pay every quarter and he always got money for his birthday.
So, five and two quarters.
Draco stilled when he felt everything around him stilling. He looked up to see the bowtruckles scurrying away from the big trees. All the pygmy puffs were puffing up and he was left to watch as leaves and branches were falling from the sky.
His heart thundered in his chest and ears.
“Diffindo!” was the first thing Draco heard. The second was the cry of a bowtruckle and the last… His own blood rushed to his ears.
He looked up to see a creature soaring in the sky and then, falling down, exactly to where he was standing. He looked around and spotted the crying bowtruckle and scooped it up in his little hands, sprinting toward the cottage where his mother and Meine were baking.
“This ugly creature!” The yell made the hair on his arms stand at attention.
Run, Draco, run.
Diffindo was a bad charm. He knew that, because his mother said such words could never be said in her home. Not even during readings. His mother was always so careful and Draco knew, he knew diffindo wasn’t a good spell, because it wasn’t a spell for little boys like him.
So, he ran. He ran with all the speed his little legs allowed him to.
Until the big, scally dragon was falling in front of him and blocking his way. Draco stored the hurt bowtruckle in his little satchel. If no one sees it, then no one would try to hurt the living baby branch.
“Oh,” the voice laughed and he backed away, falling over the creature that was soaring the skies. “A little boy. And so pretty, too.” She eyed him with curiosity. "Platinum blond haired and fair skin. Might you be a Malfoy?"
She advanced and Draco trembled.
“Don't’ come any close,” he stated, maybe a yell. Maybe not. His fingers were numb and his heart was beating fast against his ribcage. “Go away.”
He tried... Draco tried.
“Oh, darling,” but the woman and the two men came closer. “You are between us and that stupid salamander. So, if you step aside we can spare you and take her and her babies to my master, you might be a Malfoy after all.”
Draco took his toy wand and pointed it at the woman.
“I will hurt if you come close to us,” he stated and felt his toes growing numb too.
“Such a brave little boy, aren’t you? Maybe not a Malfoy," and she threw something red at him. He screamed and fell over the poor beast that fell from the sky, body hurting. “Stay away, or the next one is going to be a fatal blow.”
Draco didn’t budge. His body froze.
“Well…” The voice sang eerily. “Crucio!”
It hit Draco with a force he didn’t know magic can pack against a child. It felt like pin pricks and knives piercing through his very skin.
“Not so brave now, are you, little boy?” the voice sounded far away and mean.
“Did you just hit a kid with a Cruciatus?” a distant voice said.
“Nothing to be done about it now,” and she cackled. "This way, I can know if he is a Malfoy. The son of that traitor."
“Expelliarmus!” The cry reverberated on Draco’s ears and then, someone was standing in front of him. “Stay away, Carrow,” he said and Draco tried to sit up just to feel how his body was being pierced by pain.
Every single breath hurts.
So much pain. He screamed and it was horrendous. He felt a wet something rolling him away from where the horrible sounds were coming and under somewhere safe and wet and a bit coarse, maybe. His skin was on fire and he cried in silence, trying to decipher if he was alright, if the winged beast was alright and if the baby branch in his satchel was alright.
He felt something cold roll down his temple. And then, a vibrating sound, yells and something like yell-o. He opened his eyes to see the emerald ones of the being that was over him, protecting him with its face, tears falling down the coarse skin of…
A dragon.
He was being protected by a dragon, him and the baby branch. He raised a hand to wipe away the tear, knowing the beast would never hurt him intentionally. But his limbs hurt and he cried for the dragon too, because he knew she was hurting too. She was hurting very badly, because she was dripping warm, red rivers.
“Draco!” his mamma. His mamma.
Mamma.
“I love you,” he mumbled against the skin of the dragon that was giving up on life, just like him.
“Draco! Baby!” he heard it more closely.
“I love you, mom,” he whispered softly, each word feeling as if it was being punched against his lungs. “So much.”
And as the dragon started to lower its head to keep protecting them, Draco went to the dark side with the pain. A hand over the bowtruckle he already loved so much. Dark spots danced on his sight until it all turned black.
Help me, Newt!
He was shook to the present by the shriek of a devastated soul.
The cry of a mother focused him in the present.
Newt saw the last Water Dragon dying while being soothed by the presence of a little child. He saw the dragon clinging to life, trying to protect the little kid trapped under her chin and the dirt, saw it trying to shield the little wizard from the fire, trying to heal it with the exhale of its mouth.
And then, he saw red. This was just a little boy, one that wasn’t even wearing any kind of shoes. One that was so in tune with nature that he saw no need to wear shoes, that he saw the need to protect a beast that could be ten times his size. A boy that was now laying limply on the ground.
Newt didn’t even want justice administered by a corrupted Ministry. He waved his wand and turned the assailants into salt statues.
“Draco!” The sob tore his heart apart. It was as if he had been slapped in the face. “Come on, baby, wake up.”
He felt tears welling up in his eyes. His hand limp, uselessly at his side.
A woman with white blond hair and a few strands of black hair was shaking the ashen body of the little kid. Newt’s heart stilled inside his chest. And then, fear kicked him into checking the little family.
Fight, Newt. Fight with everything you have.
He ran to her side and took the little kid in his arms. He had a grandchild a bit older than this little boy. His Rolf was pure trouble the size of a Hershey’s bite. And this kid, this kid was younger than his grandson.
“I… I… I can heal him,” he stuttered softly. “But it will have a price.”
The woman with black-white hair, the mother, looked up at him with teary eyes.
“How?” she asked softly, desperation lacing her voice. “Please.”
“I can tie him to the magical essence of this dragon,” he stated softly. “But he will live a rather short life.”
“How short?” Narcissa asked, eyeing the stranger that defended her baby, even when she could see clearly that he was bleeding.
“Maybe till he is one hundred years old. I can’t assure you more than that number,” he stated softly.
He himself wasn’t sure about the lifespan of Water Dragons. There weren't enough to study, because they were hunted because of their healing abilities and the beauty of their scales, like kaleidoscopic crystals. Still, this could bring the little kid a chance and a future, even if a bit uncertain.
She pondered, seeing her baby’s life fading in the arms of a stranger. He was so small, ashen and still. Her Draco was never still. He always had too much energy, too many questions, too many tales to tell.
And she was losing all of it.
“What do I need to do for you to save him?” she asked softly, determination filling her eyes.
Newt’s heart broke, but he took a deep breath and told her what he needed.
“I need access to your baby’s soul,” he stated softly, hand carding through platinum blond hair. "A soul fragmentation."
“A curse.” She whispered with fear.
“A curse. I’m sorry,” he casted his eyes down. “It’s the only way I know.”
One. Two. Three. Fifteen.
The boy’s pale skin was turning blue.
Newt looked down with worry. The woman followed his gaze immediately.
"Okay," she conceded, hand shaking, wand held firmly. "I will help you." Determination lacing her voice.
Narcissa started casting with her wand, sure movements, teary eyes. Heavy soul and hopeful heart.
"Dehriynenen," he casted a dark curse for the first time.
Hokkaido, Japan
July 13th, 1995
Narcissa's heart was beating hard inside her chest, while she tried to compose herself for the sake of her boy. Twelve years later from that horrific day when she left Newt cast something never done on her child before they had to bury the boy.
Twelve years of not living, not really. At least not for her little dragon.
Twelve years later, Draco was looking at her with those beautiful aquamarines of his, his eyes curious while trying to decipher what was going on inside her head; his hands wringing together, palms gliding against palms.
Book open in front of him.
"I'm proud of you, Draco," she said, closing the distance between her and her child and carding a motherly hand through white tresses of hair. "Keep up the hard work, my child."
He nodded and his eyes wandered back to the book about souls and filial animals.
"Can you bring a new coat for Bennu?" he asked, looking at the featherless little creature inside its opened cage.
"I knew this beast would be a nuisance," she mumbled under her breath.
"But you love him, right?" Draco asked her.
Her eyes softened.
"Of course, Draco. He is your friend," she stated and then looked at the bird. "Even when he looks so…” She looked down on the naked bird. “Decrepit."
There was no other polite word to describe the state of the creature.
"Don't mind mother, Bennu," he said to the ugly bird. "You are as handsome as the first day I got you."
Narcissa dubbed such a statement, but kept her mouth shut. Hurting Draco's feelings was never a priority in her books.
"I will be back before dinner," she stated softly, tapping on her own wrist and summoning their only House Elf. "Meine, you are to keep company with Draco."
She looked up at the clock with four spoons signaling different locations. A Family Clock. Meine appeared out of thin air, as always, scaring the poor, naked bird and making Draco giggle. The house elf, that was well dressed, sat down in the little chair that was for her and only her, taking her knitting in her hands, facing her child.
"Meine is going to take good care of the little masters," she stated softly. "Mistress can go without remorse of madness befalling on her home in her absence."
Was that supposed to make her feel better? Because it had the opposite effect.
"Not a child," Draco protested, eyes still glued to the book. "Can we have fish, Meine?"
"Meine already made fish nuggets for the young master, they will be served at tea hour," she stomped on that idea while munching on fish related dishes. “Young master is not knowing his manners anymore.”
Draco moaned but went back to his book quickly. At his side, the bird chirped loudly.
Narcissa rolled her eyes. Trust the bird to second Draco in his cravings.
"You both behave," Narcissa warned them both, Draco and the bird. Curiously, the elf was never the problem, even when wizards liked to say they were dumb. "I don't want to come home to see the throw pillows destroyed by another pillow fight. Especially not in the name of a bird. Draco, remember to feed your Bowtruckle friend."
Draco giggled and Meine stuck her tongue out at the young boy.
She walked out of the little cottage and into the dirt path and aparated to the school's grounds. Mahoutokoro was really a beauty to behold one's breath. She was so happy when Draco was accepted by the staff, prouder when his robes acquired golden trims because of his virtue just when he was a first grader at the school. She feared so much sending her kid to Hogwarts, that she started to look for new schools.
They feared going back to British soil. Britain was tainted. Lucius tainted it the moment he informed her that he wasn’t a deserter and he would never be.
Heir or not.
So, she took her baby, still growing in her belly, and herself, away from the madness that was Great Britain, with Voldemort looking for the Chosen One that would destroy him. She refused to have her child killed if he happened to be born a few weeks later, when madness was an inevitable path.
She loved Lucius, but she loved her baby more. And the kind of abuse she had to put on upon marrying the man, was something that she would never let her kid experiment.
She might be cruel, a Black by blood, but she wasn't Druella Black or any of those fools. She was her own person, and while she learned nothing but decorum and luxury, she yearned for true love, like her sister Andromeda. So, she fled.
But then, Draco was born with pale skin, pale hair and pale eyes and a sickness, so sick... She thought the Fates might take her child away from her. But, no. He was just... Special.
He lived half a free life until he was five. Then, something else was thrown at her boy, something dark that left her and her found family in shambles and tears.
Draco’s illnesses became worst. The symptoms getting worse with each passing year. Until it was unbearable. Until she saw sense in the form of a letter written by the same man that gave her back hope.
So, here she was... Grasping faith with both hands and all her teeth.
The gates of Mahoutokoro opened for her and she walked forward, heels clicking, until she was in the Headmistress' office. She was the last to arrive, because that was how the Headmistress wanted it in the first place, and Narcissa... She could respect them for that. Draco was special to them, just as much as he was for her.
And they were showing her so much support in keeping her child alive.
"Welcome, Narcissa," Anna Ferguson, Headmistress of the Japanese Institution, uttered softly, hands gesturing for her to sit down in a comfy looking chair. "Please, be seated."
She nodded and took her place just beside the Headmistress. The table was a eight sits monstrosity that served the amazing purpose of being used as the war place for the faculties members.
And this... This was just like that.
"Good afternoon, Headmistress, professors," she nodded to them and then looked at the woman in front of her. "Healer Mason."
"Welcome back, Narcissa," one of the Six Faculty members greeted her. Mr. Ishida.
"We are here to discuss Draco Kalyke Aster Black Lovegood Chevallier. Full name has appeared in magical records of his birth and inherited titles by magical lineage," the Headmistress said softly. "As this is confidential information, regarding the health of our student Draco Black, the comitée decided to reopen Narcissa's pleading into having her child accepted in our school, even when she is not of Japanese or Asian blood, but rather European and we are here now to revise his progress and file a special request for transference to European soil."
And then, the members' faculties were opening folders and nodding softly.
"Professor Isolt, if you must start," she prodded him with soft words.
The man nodded and opened his folder.
"As House Master," he started. "I have seen Draco performing to the best of his abilities. As a valuable student I must say we are losing a brilliant wizard, as one of the few members that have worn a golden robe and as a valuable member of Mahoutokoro as an Institution, I will miss young Draco," he stated. "A student with a great talent for logic, problem-solving abilities and a penchant for experimenting with the intrinsicate art of the soul and its deep connection to one's body," he kept going, eyes glinting softly. "A bit of a procrastinator, that is good for his overflowing mind. A loyal friend, when said loyalty is earned. All in all, a boy I see succeeding in our society, being a Japanese one or in any other country."
He nodded and closed his folder.
"Is Draco in trouble?" The Jade House Mistress looked at the Headmistress.
The woman took a fortifying breath.
"It could be," she stated softly, looking at Narcissa. They discussed this before. "Healer Mason will explain."
The healer looked up and addressed the faculty members that were unaware of her patient situation.
"Draco Black is sick," she stated. "I think, under good years of studying his blood, that it might be beneficial for his health if he is to study in the soil he belongs to," she stated softly. "Draco Black suffers from a dark curse casted on him when he was a toddler. He was cursed to change forms. For those of us who have seen him changing into his beast form, we know that he is... A key for the future." The Ancient Studies professor looked at the healer.
“Curse?”
“A Maledictus,” Mason said softly. "He is already taking advanced classes in Defense and Runes. He is smart and... Volatile, for lack of a better word."
"Not that Draco is a bad boy, the contrary in this case. But his hormones are running high and this environment... Is not good for the kind of beast that he carries inside his chest." Mistress Katsuya said softly. "He will be dearly missed here. But we all agree that he will be better in Britain."
"What are you suggesting?" he asked, softly, slowly, composed.
"Draco Black's beast is a sky-blue water dragon. As stated by Miss Katsuya, our school cannot offer a good environment for him and his beast to develop," She stated, skipping the file to the others. "As stated here, he is, in fact, the last sky-blue water dragon in existence. He might get to live a few two hundred years in human flesh at best, but after that time, he would stay like one of these, just as all the others of his kind... Born into this before him, until the day he dies," she said it so clinically that Narcissa feared for a moment.
"This type of curse... I thought it was supposed to affect only grown up women, isn't it correct?" one of the faculty members stated.
"Not always the first one," Mason said, looking down. "The first carrier was always a woman. There hasn't been a case like this... Not that we know about. This sets a precedent to put under scrutiny the real nature of witches, who tend to be treacherous creatures, really. Draco Black might be the first. But three more appeared throughout fairy tales books, forgotten a long time ago. Whatever the case..." She sighed. "The truth is that Mahoutokoro is not a good environment for the beast retained by Mister Black's body. Water Dragons are sweet water creatures. The saline that surrounds the school is not... Appropriate for his beast, which tends to make him, them... Volatile giving the sentimental incentive."
"I will sign the letter to have Mr. Black accepted in another school, where the environment can match his needs to keep himself healthy as long as possible." The Headmistress stated. "It is a necessity of life and death at this point." She looked around. "I hope all of you can understand and sign as a show of good will towards our student."
Narcissa felt sadness sliding inside her chest.
They weren't running away, they were trying to save a life. Newt and her did it, they saved the life of her son. Mostly Newt, and now, she needed Draco to be closer to his home.
"Why Great Britain?" one of the professors asked.
"Draco was... His blood is from there. Dragons are called back to their roots," she stated softly. "If they don't obey the call, they start to wilt."
Such a pretty way to say: dying.
Narcissa took a deep breath, because Draco has been sleeping more and more, in human form and in his beast form. He had bags under his eyes and his skin was so pale.
She looked down, sorrow weighing down her heart.
She was losing her baby. She needed to speak with Xeno before it was too late.
They needed to plan.
She needed to save him.