分卷阅读2（1 / 2）

Nestled safely in the Gryffindor dormitory, Harry Potter tossed and turned in his bed, clenched in the jaws of a nightmare.

Blood. There was blood everywhere. Blood that he had helped to spill. Yes, all of it must have been his fault. Sirius, his mother, his father, countless others that had been killed during the summer raids that the Death Eaters had launched while he was tucked away in Privet Drive. He had only found out about these when he arrived back at school, and now, three weeks later, it still haunted him.

Darkness seemed to surround him, but this was a different darkness. Not the darkness of hatred that was filled with blood…this was almost a comforting darkness, a darkness that felt like…feathers? Silken feathers. Wings.

Two arms encircled him as the black wings seemed to cradle his body. “Do not despair Harry,” a voice whispered, “Do not despair.”

And Harry slept peacefully.

“Yo, Malfoy!”

Disdainful eyes shifted from where they had been contemplating the wall of the cell to the wizard that stood at the barred door to this, this cage.

“You got a letter.” Then the guard muttered under his breath, “Though why anyone would be sending a letter at this hour is beyond me.”

The guard was shaken out of his reverie as the letter was snatched out of his hand and the cell’s inhabitant retreated back into the cell. Muttering inaudibly about manners of prisoners and idiots who sent letters at five in the morning, the guard went on his way back to his post where he had been shaken from his stupor by an eagle only a few minutes before.

Lucius looked at the letter briefly before ripping it open. Draco had written it. His eyes seemed to race down the letter, an emotion that was never seen by the world apparent in his eyes. As he read it Lucius smiled. Draco knew. His pride, his son, was now just beginning to grasp the truth of the road that he himself had walked. Lucius felt a small pang of regret that he would not be able to help his son become accustomed to this life…until he read the last paragraph. The elder Malfoy smiled in the shadows, and for once he allowed his emotions through. Beautiful, wings that glistened in the moon-light streaming into the cell from the barred window, erupted from his back and fluttered as if they were happy that their owner was happy. The soft rustle of feathers filled the cell as the wings stretched, their wingtips touching the ceiling. Lucius looked at his wings thoughtfully. Someday his Draco’s wings would be this size, twice the length of a grown man and powerful enough to support his son in flight, and in battle if necessary. Out of curiosity Lucius rolled up the sleeve of his robe and looked at the pale flesh of his upper arm. No blemish, not even a smudge of the Dark Mark to be seen.

Chapter 2: Aspectus

Harry hated Mondays. No, he really hated Mondays. Because Mondays always seemed to start off badly, which set the entire mood of the day to be a bad one. Why? One word: Potions. That was all that was needed to be said on the matter, that word. And it didn’t help that there were lucky people like Ron who weren’t trying to be an auror and therefore could afford to sleep late on Mondays if they so wished, because they weren’t taking Potions. Of course, Ron never did sleep late on Mondays. He figured it was the least he could do to give his friend some encouragement before that…there wasn’t a word bad enough to describe that class in Harry’s opinion.

And speaking of Ron…it was Ron who was currently dragging Harry down the stairs to the Great Hall for breakfast as par the normal Monday routine. And like every Monday, Hermione was already there, ensconced in a book. Ron and Harry slid into seats next to her that she had saved for them as she did every morning, and began loading food on to their plates.

“Oh, Harry, did you hear? No Potions today,” Hermione said as if she was commenting on the weather.

Harry’s looked up hopefully. “Really?”

Hermione nodded, eyes not leaving the book. “He’s not here today. Class was canceled.”

Both Ron and Harry turned to look at the staff table and, sure enough, their Potions master was not there.

“I wonder why he’s not here,” Harry murmured.