Chapter Text
Narcissa brushed imaginary dust off of Draco's shoulders one last time. "Promise me you'll be careful-"
Draco finished the sentence for her. "And not find myself in any precarious danger. Mother, Cassie is more than capable of keeping me safe, there is no reason to fret. I promise, I'll be safe."
She hugged him one last time as the train blew the final whistle. It was a sight to behold, an improper gesture that any sensible witch or wizard would never guess would be seen within their lifetime. An outwardly display of affection by a pure-blood family, and the Malfoys, at that. Had more people been actively watching the group amidst all the chaos of parents and students doing a last-minute shuffle before departure, perhaps the momentous act would've made the gossip section of the next day's paper.
If Lucius disproved of the hug, there was no visible sign. Ever since the end of Draco's third year, that's how it had been. Narcissa taking a sudden charge over Draco's upbringing and Lucius being put in his place if he attempted to have a say. The first time it occurred had been jarring for Draco, not used to his passive and mild-mannered mother lose all subtlety and begin to announce how things were going to go.
Lucius had learned quickly to not defy his wife's wishes. He had known that the date would arrive long before Draco had been born; the day where he would not be the best-suited to guide his son through his young life.
"It's time to get moving," Cassie quietly announced, and within the blink of an eye Draco was now seated on the Hogwarts express, watching through the window as Narcissa's smiling face grew further and further away from him.
The two had the apartment all to themselves. While Draco knew this was intentional, a small part of him wished he could've sat with his friends. Things were different now. He was different now.
His fifth-year companion spoke up. "You're free to brood if you want, or you can say what's on your mind. The latter would be much healthier for you, emotionally."
"You're an ass," he laughed, "you know that?"
Cassie grinned, tapping his shin with her foot. "Yeah, and don't you forget it."
They fell into a comfortable silence, alternating between watching the rolling scenery and stretching out on the long benches. He was glad to have spent the summer with her already and gotten to know his few-times-removed cousin, otherwise this would be quite awkward the whole way.
As they grew nearer to their destination, both had changed into their robes. It was around this time where Draco began to feel butterflies whirling around in his stomach, his heart picking up its pace.
"Cassie?" There must have been something in his voice, for she was quick to look at him in concern. "What do I do if someone finds out? What if I can't keep it secret? What if a potion explodes in my face during class and they rush me to the hospital wing and then Dumbledore finds out?"
He could have easily continued, but Cassie's stern kick to his shin shut him up. "If someone finds out, hex them and find me. You can. If a potion explodes, Snape already knows. If you're in a different class and something goes to absolute shit, which is unlikely, Pomfrey would have to be very specific in her spell work to find out you're a siren. It wouldn't happen on accident, she'd have to be purposefully looking. Which, she won't, because no one at that damned school has any reason to believe you're anything but a pure-blooded wizard."
This was not the first (frankly, not the last either) time they had gone over this very conversation. But it wasn't every day that you risked being outed as being part magical creature--long thought to be extinct--and getting yourself murdered as a result. All because he didn't want to be privately educated, wanted to be as normal as he could and continue going to school like his friends.
Friends that he had barely communicated with all summer, and who he would have to keep his distance from to keep both him and themselves safe. If they discovered his secret and harbored it (as he knew they would), they could be charged as accomplices in harboring a fugitive creature. If he was going down, he would not drag them with him.
If anything, he was grateful for Cassiopeia. Privately educated, his "cousin" had enrolled to transfer to Hogwarts to look out for him. His godfather must've pulled an endless amount of strings to get her into Hogwarts without raising too many questions into her past, but the American Ministry of Magic was thankfully quite lawless and disorganized, therefore making the transition much easier.
Draco easily got lost in his head as they arrived at Hogsmeade, Cassie gently guiding him under the appearance he was escorting her, her hand curled around his bicep and tucked in by his elbow. He felt nauseous. Maybe this had been a mistake. The solid ground beneath his feet felt like a thousand pinpricks, he longed to be nearer to the Great Lake. The air was suffocating, he desperately craved the comforts of water pressure pushing in on him like a firm hug, the weight of its resistance slowing everything down around him.
They got to the carriages, and he stiffened.
"You knew you would be able to see the threstrals," Cassie muttered to him. They briefly separated to climb into the carriage, shared with some older Hufflepuffs Draco vaguely recognized.
Once seated, he pressed into her side for stability. "Knowing and actually seeing are two very different things. They're unsettling."
She snorted. "The same could be said about you."
He elbowed her ribs, and the Hufflepuff on her other side lightly glared as they were shoved to the side as Cass tried to evade the assault. None of the badgers dared say anything, however, as the one bracing herself to speak up was cut off by Cassie's head snapping to look at her.
As the girl's eyes watered, the rest of the carriage fell silent. Once they arrived at the castle and separated from the group, Draco was quick to cut to the chase.
"Are you going to teach me how to do that?"
Cass smiled at his eagerness. "Am I going to teach you how to put the fear of Merlin deep into the very bones of random strangers, compelling them into a mute silence?" She mockingly scratched at her chin. "I don't know, such a nefarious act seems very out of character for me."
An obvious yes, then.
They took their seats in the Great Hall. Blaise and Pansy were quick to seat themselves across from them. It did not matter he had done the equivalent of abandoning them over the summer sans explanation, they knew he had done so for a reason. It was moments like these that he was grateful for pure-blood culture; every family held deep, dark secrets that supported an unspoken don't ask, don't tell policy. If he wanted to tell them, he would. Otherwise, it was none of their interest.
"How was your summer, Draco?" Pansy asked, smiling politely at Cassie.
"Good, lots of traveling," he replied, "spent time with my cousin Cassiopeia, here."
Pansy's eyes widened a tad at the informal introduction, a clear indicator that Cass was not of a Noble and Most Ancient House. If only she knew the full story.
Blaise, ever the socialite, was quick to strike up a conversation with Cassie. Pansy's interest was also sparked when they heard her obvious American accent, and Draco was grateful for the attention being redirected away from him.
Draco's eyes flittered throughout the hall, mindlessly eating as the conversation lulled around him. Around his twentieth or so pass of the Gryffindor table, he was not surprised to find Weasley and Potter's gazes directed straight at him with suspicion and discontent clear on their faces. For once, he loathed the attention, quickly looking away in hopes to drop their interest.
He had already made a pact with himself this year to not try and start anything with Potter, or anyone else, for that matter. He didn't need to draw unnecessary attention to himself, it could only bring trouble. Especially when it concerned the Gryffindor trio, whose curiosity could kill quite a few herds of cats. Not even their nine lives could save them at that point.
Hopefully Granger would talk some sense into them. Loathe to admit it, but the girl was intelligent, and definitely the most sensible of the three. He hoped she didn't hold too much scorn for him and the way he had treated her these past few years. He'd apologize, but it would likely only make them more suspicious. Heaven forbid they discover he was projecting his fears of not being a true pure-blood onto a muggle-born. At that point, he'd gratefully turn himself in to the Ministry to be boiled alive.
Draco hoped his dissociating wasn't that obvious to the blind eye. As Dumbledore droned on about new staff, the Triwizard Tournament, Merlin knows what else... He couldn't buy into the excitement. He simply wished for the feast to be over so he could retire to his dorm.
It was only once he was in his private quarters that Cassie began to take an inventory of him. "Draco, where does it hurt?"
Oh. He was in pain. Yes, that seemed accurate.
Cassie carefully helped him disrobe, and only once his shirt was removed was the source identified. He felt Cassie's hand lightly touch the spines beginning to form under the skin on his back, and he didn't even attempt to restrain the scream of pain that escaped him. That was the whole point of private quarters, after all.
"It's so painful because they take root in your vertebrae, and there's a fair amount of nerves bundled up there. It isn't so bad once they're established and break through the skin, but it's going to be a few days before they get to that point." Her words made sense, but his head felt cloudy.
While he embraced his siren heritage wholeheartedly, the transitioning was almost not worth it. Regardless, he did not have much choice in the matter, as there was no stopping it. It would happen whether he wanted it to or not.
Cassie must've moved him. The cold pool of water lifted some of the fog, the searing pain dulled down to a strong ache. He feel into a fitful sleep, but it was hard for him to tell whether he was sporadically waking up or simply having fever dreams. He could've sworn he could hear Severus talking at one point. He also heard his mother's, too, which convinced him it was a dream. Someone kept screaming. They must be drowning, for the noise was mixed in with harsh gurgles of water. He wished to help them.
It was in between moments of darkness that it was calm. The drowning boy did not scream, there was no thrashing of water or loud voices arguing. There was a soft glowing light. It felt nice, like the bright sun being muted by a passing cloud.
"He's bleeding." His godfather was there, a blurry figure looming over him.
Another voice, off to the side, joined in. "Like I said, it's normal. It means the spines are breaching through his skin. This part's almost over."
"It's been three days!"
"Yep."
"How does your kind endure this? This seems more like a botched homicide than a coming-of-age transition."
A laugh. Cold, short. "Before we were forced into hiding, they happened slowly over the years as children grew. After the Ministry decided we lost our right to exist? An instinctual preservation gene kicked in so the changes wouldn't happen until the kid at least has a bit of a fighting chance."
It was growing dark again. Loud, like someone was screaming. He was screaming.
"There are times like this where I wish to burn that whole institution to the ground for the atrocities they've committed."
"You and me both, Severus. You and me both..."