Why Do I Have Wings?
The first thing Harry noticed upon waking was pain. It radiated all over him, from his back to his face to his feet. It felt like his skin had split open. Harry whimpered before immediately cutting the sound of. He didn't know where the Dursleys were, and he didn't want another punishment today. The second thing he noticed was that something was off with his room. The light was more vibrant, there were more colors than usual, and he could see dust particles floating through the air.
He slowly pushed himself up into a sitting position, muffling whimpers of pain the entire time. Uncle Vernon really did a number on him last night. He thought back, trying to remember what they had been fighting about this time. He couldn't remember much, only that it was something to do with his 16th birthday the next day. Which, Harry realized numbly, was today. Happy sweet 16 to me, he thought, chuckling without humor.
He rose from his bed, ignoring the pain and exhaustion that made him want to crawl back into bed and lay there until he merged with it. He was starving, more so than usual anyway. Why was he so hungry? He knows he got food last night, and it had been a little more than usual as Aunt Petunia had let him eat the leftovers last night, instead of just a can of soup.
Harry walked over to his door to listen, trying to see if anyone was home. Uncle Vernon and Dudley walked louder than a herd of elephants, and breathed just as loudly. It was usually harder to tell if Aunt Petunia was around, but the tell-tail click-clack of her heels that she wore -even around the house!- usually gave her away. Today, he didn't hear anything in the house, but, after a glance at the window, he could tell that the sun wasn't up yet either, so he listened closer.
The harder he listened, the louder everything seemed, the small creaking of the floor underneath him, the chirping of crickets and frogs outside, the humm of the energy generator in the basement. Then, as if all at once, sounds hit him from every direction, as if amplified by 100. He could hear dogs barking, there was the sound of cats on a scratching post, rock music, a couple yelling, and hundreds more he couldn't identify. Harry sunk to his knees, hands over his ears trying to block the noises that only seemed to get louder the more he panicked. He sat there for minutes, or maybe hours, trying to calm his breathing so as to not scream. Then, as he calmed down a little, he noticed the noises faded. So that's what he did. He sat there, curled up in a ball by his door, hands over his ears, and tried to breathe.
Eventually, the noises faded back to normal and Harry could stand again. Muscles protesting against the movement, body hurting worse than it did already, like thousands of knives were being shoved into him. He opened the door, knowing that the Dursley's weren't home, but wondering why they were already gone at this hour.
He leaned on the wall, not trusting his legs to get him to the nearest bathroom. He would have gone to use his downstairs, the smallest and most run down in the house, but he knew if he tried to get down the stairs, his legs would give out, and he didn't fancy a concussion funny enough.
It didn't take long to get to the nearest bathroom, Aunt Petunia's of which he was glad for, up until he walked into the room and was assaulted with so many smells it gave him a headache. Ugh, how much of how many perfumes did she use this morning! It smelled like all of them, the vanilla, the coconut, the strawberry, hell, it even smalls like her very fancy one he could never name, but that she only used on important occasions.
Maybe washing his face would help. So Harry went over to lean on the sink, not even realizing he hadn't turned on the light as he could see perfectly fine. Turning on the faucet, he cupped his hands under the flow, before leaning over the sink to splash it onto his face. His headache went away immediately as the water cleared his nose a little. Harry sighed a little, before looking up into the mirror, only to yelp and jump back a little. His eyes were glowing! And his pupil looked a little weird.
Staring at his eyes, he finally noticed that A: he hadn't turned the lights on, and B: he wasn't wearing glasses. He frowned. He could see perfectly fine, in fact he'd say that he could see better than ever.
Harry quickly scrambled to turn the lights on, blinking rapidly in the sudden influx of light and color. Turning back to the mirror he noticed more things were off. His hair had grown, now down to the bottom of his shoulder blades, and curled at the ends. He reached back to touch it, finding out that it was silkier and softer than usual. Still staring at his reflection, Harry realized that his facial features had changed a bit as well. His eyes were bigger and softer, but pointed as well. They had also changed colors a bit,still the bright emerald green,but now had flecks of blue and turquoise in them. His nose had shrunk a bit, now sloping gently to a point, right above his now full, heart shaped lips. His cheeks were less rounded, cheekbones and jawline prominent, but somehow delicate looking. Moving a lock of hair that had gotten in his eyes behind his ear, he saw that his ears had changed as well, now they looked a little pointed at the ends. If he looked close enough, it looked like his skin was shimmering faintly, barely there unless you were looking, but there none the less.
As soon as he realized this, more pain washed through him, making him close his eyes and clench his fists around the sink counter. As soon as it had come, it was gone again, all of the pain from this morning too. Harry opened his eyes to look back into the mirror, trying to see if something had happened. His eyes met his reflection, and he jerked away from it, convinced that he was seeing things or this wasn't his reflection. But the thing only moved with him, and he could feel everything on himself anyway. So he closed the bathroom door to get to the full length mirror on the back of it, and just stared in a shocked horror.
A pair of wings and a tail had burst from his back, shredding his shirt and pants, and dripping blood onto the tile flooring. Claws had grown from his hands and feet, as well as fangs from his mouth. His entire body was now covered in scales. His eyes now had cat-like pupils, and his ears had grown longer, about an inch or two, stretching to a tapered point near the top of his head.
Slowly, Harry brought his hands up to his face to inspect the claws, deciding to try and ignore the things on his back until he calmed down a bit. The claws were about three inches long, growing from each finger, and were a purple-black color. They all had serrated edges and sharp looking points. He rested a claw on his palm, and pressed a bit. Almost immediately his skin was cut and bleeding. Yeah, they were sharp.
He turned back to the mirror to look at the new features there. First up, he now has two pairs of fangs, one pair on top one on the bottom. The top pair was longer and more spaced out, with the shorter bottom pair resting between them. The top pair was a good 2.5-3 inches and rested on his bottom lip when his mouth was closed. The bottom pair was about 1.5-2 inches long, and rested under his lips when closed. Both pairs looked to be made of pure silver. What stood out next though, was that the shimmering had turned into scales. White, almost reflective scales covered a majority of his face, along his hair line, over his nose, around eyes and mouth, across his cheeks. Hell, they even grew along the edges of his ears.
The scales weren't just on his face either, they trailed down his body too. In delicate swirls down his neck, over his shoulders, down his arms, before they came together to make a full plate of armor across his chest, ribcage, and stomach. They went make to the lazy swirls as they trailed down his legs. Harry noticed that the places were the human skin was visible, no longer had hair or scars. Except the lightning bolt on his head, which had faded to an almost skin color after he defeated Voldemort earlier that year.
Looking at his body now, he noticed a few more differences. He had shrunk a good three inches, now standing about 5'5" or 5'6". His body shape had changed, his waist narrowing down after his ribcage, and hips having of gotten wider. He looked delicate, almost.
Sighing, Harry turned his attention to the things on his back. He reached behind himself to grab one of his wings gently, sensing that they were extremely sensitive. Both of them would be huge, but right now, they were crumpled and covered in fluids, reminding him of butterflies right out of the cocoon. He felt an urge to clean them, which he tried to ignore until he just couldn't anymore. So, Harry grabbed a washcloth out from a drawer under the sink, praying that Aunt Petunia didn't notice before he had time to wash it. He wet the cloth with warm water and went to work, not stopping until his scales were shiny, taking about 45 minutes. When he looked back in the mirror, his just puffed out proudly. Perfect, a little voice told him, everyone else will be absolutely jealous. He shook his head, trying to clear that thought.
Now that his wings were cleaned, he could see just how big they were, stretching a good two feet above him, and he was sure if he opened them, they would be close to 17 feet wide. There were two hooked claws on the wing joints, one each, both about 2 inches long. The wings had several main bones in them that were completely covered in scales, and in between them was a leather like material, that was also covered in scales, but more like the soft scales on his skin instead of the rock hard scales covering the rest of his wings and chest. His wings were the same reflective white as his body. They honestly reminded him of bat wings. Or maybe dragon with the scales... His tail was the same color, maybe 4 feet long, and flexible enough to curl around his legs, staying out of the way.
There were scales swirling over his shoulder blades, down his sides, spreading out from his tail and over his buttocks. The only place they weren't, was in between his wings, where a blood red tattoo sat, swirling and twisting around itself, forming a symbol he couldn't read but felt he should know.
He stared at the mirror for a good 10 minutes before a thought occured. Could they go away? He couldn't go out in public like this, especially not in the muggle world. Though, something told him that he shouldn't go walking around the wizarding world like this either. Harry, looked at himself, unsure of how to get them to go away, and as soon as he concentrated on going back to himself, everything was gone, like it was never there. The ripped clothes and blood on the floor said differently, so he knows he wasn't hallucinating at least.
Harry felt exhausted, wanting nothing more than to go lay back down. And maybe some food. He was starving, and had a serious craving for something. He wasn't sure what, but it was something.
Harry shook himself. No matter how tired he was, he felt disgusting, so a shower was in order first. He briefly debated going to use his shower downstairs, before just deciding to use Aunt Petunia's now. It wasn't like she was here to know anyway.
Getting in, he debated on the different shampoos, soaps, and conditioners. Why did she have so many!? He choose the least offensive smelling ones-a vanilla, coconut, and strawberry-, and honestly this transformation of his made his better sight, hearing, and smell make so much sense.
Getting out of the shower, after spending significantly more time in there as he had to use conditioner for his longer hair, he dried off. Once done, he cleaned up the blood on the floor, and picked up the scraps of clothes. He went back to his room to change, then went downstairs to find something to eat. Technically, he wasn't supposed to eat today because he did last night, but he couldn't help it. He could smell the food and was starving.
As he walked into the kitchen, he absentmindedly looked at the digital clock that was on the wall. Why they couldn't have a regular clock was beyond him usually, but it turned out very very helpful today. It was currently 7:38 am in the morning, on Thursday, August 14th. Harry stopped in shock. Today was supposed to be his birthday, the 31st of July. Not two weeks later in August!
What was the last thing he remembered!? He had dinner with the Dursleys last night, well apparently not last night, got hit by Uncle Vernon for something he couldn't remember, then had gone to his room, and had tried to stay awake until the clock hit midnight. He remembered seeing the hands hit 12, and the rest is blurry, up until this morning when he woke. Had he been asleep for two weeks!?
Harry shook his head. He'd deal with that later. He needed food. Now. He walked over to the fridge and opened it, looking around and moving things until he found something that was mouth watering. Hamburger, uncooked, but still meat. Harry grabbed it out of the fridge, planning on cooking it, until he smelled it. It was delicious, he wanted it now, not after it was cooked. He didn't even have time to think about it before his fangs had extended, and sank into the raw meat. His human brain was gone as soon as taste met his lips.
The next time he came into awareness, the hamburger was gone, and there was blood on his chin. What. The. Fuck. Had he just eaten raw meat? Without even questioning it? Harry felt like he should be panicking more than he was. He had felt something take over him, and then had just devoured raw meat. Instead, he just felt full and content.
Harry decided not to worry about it. If he got sick because of it, then he got sick. He went around and cleaned up the trash from his lunch, and wiped off his face, before heading back upstairs.
Noticing that Hedwig was gone, made him very glad that he had opened the window the night before his birthday. She would have for sure starved in the two weeks he was passed out. Looking closer, he now noticed a pile of letters on his desk. Looking between them and his bed, he ultimately decided to open his letters first, no doubt people were worried because he hasn't answered yet.
Harry started on the bottom of the pile, which contained packages with the letters, no doubt for his birthday. There was some white chocolate raspberry swirl bars and letter from Mrs. and Mr. Weasley. Harry grinned. She remembered his favorite chocolate! There were some prank gifts, as well as some chocolate frogs, and a letter from the twins, a section each on the page. There was a hand knitted pair of mittens and a bracelet from Ginny, and a note saying that the mittens were so that he didn't get rub burn from his broom handle. Bill's, Charlie's, and Percy's came together, apparently they had pooled some money to get him a new ink and quill set, one were the quill automatically drew ink from the well, could change colors, and never ran out. There was a letter from them wishing him the best a stating that they couldn't wait to see their youngest brother again. Harry grinned. Their youngest brother, huh? He could live with that.
The last parcel was from Hermione he noticed dimly. Not that he wasn't excited and thankful about it, but he noticed that Ron hadn't sent something. Of course, they had a little falling out after his defeat of Voldemort nearly 4 months ago now, but it had just been an argument. Sure, Ron hadn't responded to any of his owls so far, but he thought for sure there would be something on his birthday. Apparently not. His eyes stung a bit as he turned back to Hermione's gift. It was thick and heavy, no doubt a book. Harry gently unwrapped it, not wanting to rip the book. Once he saw the title, he froze. "Encyclopedia of Humanoid Magical Creatures and Their Habits".
He panicked. Did she know!? Something in him was screaming and growling at that thought, telling him that absolutely no one should know about his, for lack of other words, second form. Harry took a moment to breathe. There was a chance she didn't know and had just thought he'd like the book, right? Right. Harry felt slightly calmer now. Hermione knew that he loved animals, and most likely had just thought he'd like finding out about even more. There was even a likely chance that whatever he was wasn't in there
But... There was no harm in checking, right? Even if it's most likely not there. Don't get your hopes up, Harry. Still, his hands reached towards the thick tome. This was going to take a while to get through. His fingers ran over the edges. It looked very old, made of some type of brown leather, with golden letters, and a cream ribbon keeping it together.
He opened to first page and moved to his bed to read, deciding he might as well settle in. Besides, even if he didn't find himself in here, Hermione was right, the animals were interesting. But, an hour later, in the D section, he paused on a section, breathe catching in his throat. The description of this creature sounded a lot like him. He looked at the name again.
Dragonborn
Dragonborns are an extremely secretive and rare breed, very little is known about them. They are considered dark animals by the British Wizarding Government, extremely dangerous and deadly. Mostly ruled by instincts. They are omnivores, and do hunt and eat fresh kill. They grow into their inheritance at age 16, when they are then considered adults by their kind. This coming into themselves causes such stress on their bodies that they pass out from anywhere from 3 days to 2 weeks, depending on the magical strength of the Dragonborn. The gene is passed on through the parents.
Dragonborns have two distinctive genders that go with the human terms (Male, Female, or other), like most humanoid creatures, called Dominant and Submissive. Each of these second genders have distinct qualities that set them apart from the other.
Dominants
Dominants are bigger than the submissives, like in most magical creatures. Their wings can get anywhere from 19 feet to 30 feet long. Their claws and fangs stretch from 4 inches to 6 inches. Their height grows to be above 6'0", and they muscle out. Scales on the dominants are bright, bold, colors, any color imaginable. The dominants are the ones expected to protect their family, and to hunt for most of the food. They are the more fierce, more aggressive of the two genders. Any slight towards their mate(s) is met with aggression, and harm is punished by death.
There have been more reports of dominants with male genital, only about 3% of them having the female genital. The ones with female genitals can reportedly still get pregnant, but prefer not to.
Submissives
Submissives are extremely rare in this breed, one of them to about 15 dominants. They are treasured, and protected with the lives of dominants. They are smaller in stature, rarely reaching above 5'8" in height, with wingspans of 12-17 feet. Their claws and fangs are between 1 and 4 inches, and release a poison when threatened. The scales on a submissive are a reflective white color that changes to match their mates once fully mated. The submissives are less ruled by their instincts than dominants, but would still kill to protect what they hold dear to them. They are usually more affectionate than their counterparts, willing to huddle up to anyone they trust. They can still hunt if they want and/or need to.
There has only been one documented recording of a submissive with the male genital, all others having the female genitals. This male reportedly was still able to get pregnant.
Mating Habits
As these creatures are so secretive, we do not have much on their mating habits. The only things we know is that dominants are extremely protective like in any other creature, and they can have up to six children in a clutch. A submissive seems to be the center of the pack, and can have anywhere from 1-6 mates. They generally start looking for mates a few months after their inheritance, and can end up pregnant within that year.
History
The Dragonborns were declared a dark creature back in 1649, when a dominant's submissive had been physically assaulted, resulting in the dominant killing the assaulter. They were hunted to near extinction afterwards, as their scales, claws, blood, and organs were very valuable potion ingredients. They disappeared in 1784, when there was less than 200 left. They have not been seen except for an occasional folktale from far into the woodlands since. They are believed to be extinct.
Harry closed the book, staring ahead of him at the blank wall. Huh. So he was a male, submissive, Dragonborn. Which was a breed of magical creature believed to be extinct. Well, if he was here there had to be more out there, right? Maybe he could ask Remus, surely he would know something, since the gene is hereditary, and he was his parent's best friend. But on the other hand, what if his parent's never told him? It wasn't like he could go asking around if someone knew where they were. That would spell out certain death for him. It did explain what that little voice was though, and why he tore into raw meat. Instinct. And there was the fact that he was legally considered an adult by his kinda standards. Does this mean he could use magic outside of school now? He decided not to test it, not finding the risk worth it.
Harry decided to put it on the back burner as he read through the rest of his mail. The majority of it was Mrs. Weasley and Hermione checking in on him after he never answered their earlier owls. Each letter was getting more and more worried, until the last two threatened to show up and check on him if he didn't answer by the 15th. Which is tomorrow. Harry quickly wrote out replies to the both of them, stating that there had been an owl mixup and he just received the letters. Harry wasn't entirely sure either of them would buy it, but he was also pretty sure they wouldn't believe him if he said 'Oh yeah I'm fine. Just discovered I'm half dragon and had passed out for two weeks from pain.' There was also the fact that his new found instincts wouldn't let him write that anyway, once again telling him not to tell anyone about his transformation, which bothered him because how was he supposed to figure out more if he couldn't ask questions?!
Harry decided to go back to sleep, having of been resisting the urge to do so since showering. It was midday anyway. Maybe a nap would help unscramble everything in his brain.