Animagus Theory: The Descendants

Dragons. Dangerous creatures yet completely misunderstood by wizards. Well that’s what Phoenix would say if asked about the creatures. The blonde sixth year stared aimlessly at her open closet, unsure of what to wear. There wasn’t exactly someone at the Burrow that she was trying to impress or anything—not precisely… But the fact that Charlie was home from Romanian (it was he afterall that sent her the letter about Mera) added to Phoenix still harbouring a sliver of that crush on him from several years ago, made the Ravenclaw want to look her best.

“Mum!” the young witch shouted for what had to have been the twentieth time. She didn’t hear her door open as she bent down in her closet to grab her dragon hide boots.

“Nice ass Artie,” a rough voice said with a chuckle. Phoenix stood up immediately and glared at the boy in her doorway.

“That’s not funny,” she said glaring. “I didn’t call for you. Where is my mother and why are you here Draco?”

“To answer your first question, she’s busy in the drawing room speaking with my mother. I doubt she heard you shouting.” He stepped further into the room and took a seat on the edge of Phoenix’s bed. He adverted his gaze to the wall to give the girl a bit of privacy. Her Lacey boyshort styled panties and matching black bra didn’t leave much room left for the imagination.

Phoenix tossed her boots on the bed, the pair bouncing on the mattress next to Draco. She turned back to her closet and grabbed a random pair of dark blue muggle jeans. Quickly she pulled them on before turning to look at Draco again.
The sixth year brought his eyes back to her when he heard her clear her throat.

“And my other question?” She asked crossed her arms over her chest unaware of how the action made her chest appear larger than it was.

Draco fell back on her bed with an annoyed groan. “Can you at the very least throw a shirt on? I’m thinking unbecoming thoughts over here,” he said in a pained tone.

Phoenix laughed. “Sorry Draco,” she said before turning around.

He sat up as she rustled through her closet. “Hey your tattoo changed,” he said. Phoenix rolled her eyes. “Oh and since you’re going to their house wear your transparent shirt. Make that idiot Dragon trainer want you... not the other way around.”

Phoenix nodded and pulled out her black sheer top. The material was tightly knitted at the top and went shear starting below the bust. “Good idea.” She pulled it on over her head and turned back around. “How do I look?” She asked with a twirl.

“Hotter than you should.”

“Oh come off it Draco we’re sixth cousins or whatever. By pureblood standards I could marry you if you were my second or third cousin… or something.”

Draco scrunched up his nose. “I’ll pass on that one. I see you as a sister,” he said as she walked closer to him. He reached out and playfully pinched her stomach.

Phoenix swatted his hand away. “Knock it off. You know I hate it when people pinch me in the fatty parts,” she said with a frown. “And just to be clear here, I wouldn’t marry you if held at wand point.”

Draco rolled his eyes at her words. He was quite aware of that fact. The two got along well enough, their views on certain aspects of life just tended to greatly conflict. As far as the Malfoys and other Slytherins knew, Phoenix von Draken was neutral when it came to the War on Voldemort.

The pair was quiet for a long moment, giving Phoenix some time to think of the practicality of her outfit. Looking down she found herself frowning. Within seconds she decided to not go with her cousin’s suggestion. The sheerness of the top made her feel a bit too exposed. There was a fine line between making a guy want you and looking like a whore, and the top seemed to straddle than border in her opinion. Screwing up her face, she walked over to the closet and pushed her clothing around until she found what she was looking for. Pulling out her tight black wizarding slacks, dark red dragon hide boots, a tight grey front tied corset and her infamous Manticore leather jacket; she quickly changed before tying her multi-coloured hair into a complex plait. The blonde and black strands wove around each other creating its own pattern inside the pattern of her braid.

“You are not fat Artie,” Draco said with a roll to his eyes as he eyed her new choice of clothing. It wasn’t much better than her pantries in his opinion. If it were up to him, he would throw out the clothing that his cousin had purchased when she went traveling through muggle America the past summer. The girl came home with more revealing clothing than actual souvenirs.

He wasn’t lying either—about her being fat or what-not. Though Phoenix wasn’t a ‘twig’… she wasn’t exactly a ‘cow’ either. With an average build she had what she referred to as her “fatty parts”. Meat on her bones and hips that made her look more like an hourglass than a test-tube. She sat beside her cousin and began to pull on her boots. “You never answered my question Draco.” She stood up again once her shoes were on and walked to her vanity. Sitting down she went to work on a light application of makeup, just a swipe of eyeliner and mascara, before turning to look at her cousin once more.

“Oh right. I came to tell you that Uncle Severus has a son.”
Phoenix froze. “Your Godfather… Slytherin Head of House… Pain in the ass Potion’s Master has a bloody kid? How old?”

Draco nodded, smirking at the surprised look on her face. “Sorted into Slytherin too. I overheard him talking to mother about it. Apparently mother was best mates with the mother.”

Phoenix shook her head as if to clear it. “I can’t believe someone wanted to breed with him!”

“Hey!” Draco said trying to act insulted. “Uncle isn’t that bad!”

Phoenix rolled her eyes and pulled a pair of skin tight Dragon hide gloves that reached her elbow. “You only say that because he’s your Head of House. Of course he’s nice to you. You’re Draco—bloody—Malfoy. Slytherin. Pureblood poster boy. Need I say more dearest?”

Draco rolled his eyes and opened his mouth to say something else but was interrupted by a tapping at the window. He looked up to see an extremely small owl sitting on the sill. “Merlin cousin. Could Rumera have gotten a smaller bird?”

Phoenix laughed and walked over to the window. She opened it and let the bird in. “Knowing her she probably could have.” She took the offered parcels—her absolute favourite, sugar quills and sent the bird on its way with a treat in its mouth. She shut her window and placed the sugary treats in her pack before throwing it onto her back and securing it across her stomach, like a belt.

Phoenix made to leave. “Wait a tic!” Draco called after her scrambling to fall into step beside her. He towered over her 5’4” form by a good 7 or 8 inches.

“Yeah?” she said not even slowing her pace as she took to the stairs.

“You never answered my inquirery about your tattoo,” he said with a slight glare.

Phoenix sighed. She had hoped he would let it go. There was one thing that Draco never understood no matter how many times she explained it, and that was the History of The Riders. “It’s magical Draco. The ink is mixed with the blood of my Dragon. As he grows the tattoo changes to match his form more closely. Plus the tattoo has a mind of its own.” She managed to scrunch up her corset, grateful for the magically adjusted laces, to show how the tattoo changed once again. The black and white dragon. (Mainly black with a white underbelly) was perched on her hip bone. Wings drawn close and tail trailing around to her back.

“Such a complicated thing,” Draco laughed. “I’ll never understand you Riders,” he said proving her point and making her hope the look of annoyance didn’t reach the surface and stayed hidden behind her mask of indifference.

“There are a very few of us left. Your Lord liked to recruit and then kill us thinking the control of our Dragons would transfer to him like the ownership of wands switch from wizard to wizard… he was wrong of course but learned that one too late.” If only he knew the real reason why… she found herself thinking as well. There had been more to The Riders than Voldemort had known. Phoenix could only pray that he never found out the rest.

The blonde haired boy screwed up his nose. “Must you Nixie?”

Phoenix merely shrugged. “Tell my mother I will be home tomorrow. And send your mother my love while you’re at it will ya?” Again she didn’t wait for a response and slipped out the back door without as much as a “Goodbye”.

It was only seconds later that Phoenix found herself standing in front of a three year old, fully grown Hebridean Black—Ukrainian Ironbelly hybrid. If measured from snout to the tip of its tail it would be noted to be in the middle of both breeds it came from. At approximately sixty feet and 5.7 tons, the black and white scaled beast stared down at its rider with its bicoloured eyes—one purple and the other red (a result from its mixed blood)—and blew out a puff of smoke from its nostrils.

“Hey there boy. I heard Charlie’s home. Fancy a visit?” Phoenix asked in calm tones as she approached her dragon. The beast bowed to allow Phoenix to mount it. At times the girl wished she had opted for a smaller breed but then would remember why she chose the dragon she did.

She and Xavier had clicked instantly after the batch all hatched. The little fire breather came to her instantly and without her even saying anything, it climbed up her arm and nuzzled the crook of her neck. It was affectionate, much like her gyrfalcon. The Dragon hide gloves she wore came in handy with both of her creatures.

Xavier—or as she called him, X—stood to his full height, talon like claws digging into the earth as he pulled out his wings. Phoenix placed her wand in the pocket of her riding robes. With one last puff of smoke he took to the air, hardly giving Phoenix time to disillusion the pair.

There was something about flying that made Phoenix always break into a smile. The way that the wind rustled through her hair, pulling it free from its confining band. The chill from high altitudes that bit at her cheeks and nose. She let out a thrilled laugh which caused her dragon to return a sound of his own. She smiled as the dragon dipped into a dive; and swiftly and surprisingly enough, quietly, into the Weasley’s backyard. It was a shame that the Weasley’s didn’t live farther, rides like that never seemed long enough to both rider and dragon.

“Rumera, you are in a fair amount of trouble cousin,” the girl hissed before dismounting from the Dragon. She patted the Dragon gently on his snout telling him through their bound to stay on the property. He looked around briefly before spotting a shaded area and walking as lightly as it could over to it.

Phoenix was pleased that it didn’t take long for the beast to settle in for a nap. The witch made her way over to her cousin. “Why did you not tell me that you were here already Mera?” she hissed under her breath. She looked to the young girl’s side. “Hi Harry,” she said quickly before turning her attention back to her cousin. “I just had Draco Malfoy waltz into my house and compliment my arse. And where were you? Here hanging with Tweedledee and Tweedledum, Sir Eats A Lot, Bookworm, Mister Glasses over here and Charlie. Not cool, cousin… Not cool at all. I should toss you to Terry Boot. Bet he’d eat you for dinner.” Phoenix smirked.

Rumera’s eyes widened at Phoenix’s words, knowing the girl had the resources to do just that, toss the dark haired girl directly into the line of sight of a certain Hogwarts student she tended to try to avoid at all costs. “You wouldn’t…”

Fred and George let out amused chuckles. “Oh you know she would, Rumey,” they said together.

Rumera groaned in annoyance. “Oh come on! Is everyone against me when it comes to Terry Boot?”

The twins and Phoenix exchanged a troubling glance. “Yes,” they said nodding.

“Don’t you hate when they do that?” a gruff voice said from behind the naturally blonde witch.

Phoenix couldn’t control the grin that split her features before she turned around and without missing a single beat, leaped into the Dragon Keeper’s awaiting arms. “Charlie!” she shrieked.

The older Weasley boy chuckled, his arms coming around the excitable 6th year. “As always it is good to see you,” he couldn’t keep the smile out of his voice as he kept her suspended off of the ground. Reflexively Phoenix brought her legs around his waist as she clung to the muscular frame of the shortest Weasley male.

Rumera rolled her eyes at her cousin’s display. “I swear she is part monkey…” she said with a shake of her head; her dark brown hair falling around her face from the motion. “And apparently I’m the unrefined one...” she continued under her breath.

Phoenix looked at Rumera over her shoulder, not even attempting to detach herself from Charlie as she glared. “I can hear you. And compared to me you are unrefined cousin dearest. I move in circles alongside the Malfoys… you trudge up steps at gatherings.”

Charlie laughed at the girl’s words before loosening his grip, hinting at her to get down without words. Albeit grudgingly, Phoenix climbed down off of the Dragon Keeper and fixed her clothing that had ridden in various directions from her earlier actions. Charlie shook her head at her outfit with a small smirk on his face. “Malfoy pick out your clothes today?”

With a roll to her eyes Phoenix stuck her middle finger up at the Weasley men that had chosen that moment to agree with Charlie and laugh. “For your information,” she said as she put down her hands down at her sides, her thumbs hooking into the belt loops of her slacks. “Draco chose an even more… revealing top.”

“That even possible there cousin?” Rumera teased, gesturing to the openness of the front of the girl’s shirt and her exposed mid-drift. The grin that split across Phoenix’s face shut Rumera up instantly. She knew exactly what the expression meant. “Please tell me you aren’t bringing your new wardrobe to Hogwarts.” Studying her cousin’s face she saw no change and groaned in defeat. “I swear you live to give me heart attacks.”

Phoenix smiled innocently. “Nope!” she said in a slightly high pitched tone, popping the letter ‘p’ in the word ‘nope’. “I live to bring life to your boring existence!”

Fred and George shared a look. “I think she spent too much time with the Malfoys this summer, she seems a bit more hyper than usual.”

Hermione narrowed her eyes at the Ravenclaw as if she was studying the girl. “There is something different about her.”

“Oh shut up Granger, no one asked you,” Phoenix huffed. She and the bookworm didn’t exactly get along.

Hermione rolled her eyes. “I take it back, she’s still a bitch.”

Phoenix narrowed her eyes at the Gryffindor. “Oh that’s rich coming from the muggleborn know-it-all. Care to inform me once again of the wonders of your other life that I couldn’t give a rats arse about?”

It was a well-known fact that Hermione Granger and Phoenix von Draken did not get along. And even though Phoenix often brought the brunette’s blood status into the equation; it was not the reason behind the mutual hatred. Their hatred for one another stemmed from the competitive atmosphere of the classroom. Phoenix, like many of her Ravenclaw counter parts hated the hand-waving, all-knowing, superior attitude Hermione often unintentionally gave off. Ravenclaws were a quiet bunch, always knowing the answer ahead of time but never given the opportunity to answer with a Hermione Granger in the room.

In their opinion, she spouted theory and fact, which was all well and good but the application and the furthering development of an answer was what Ravenclaws often strode for and were seldom given the opportunity to pursue. Needless to say, Phoenix was not a fan of one Hermione Granger.

Harry sighed at the girls. "Can't the two of you get along for once?"

Phoenix and Hermione looked at each other, sizing each other up. "No," they replied in unison.

Rumera sighed. "Please tell me you're going home at the end of today?"

Phoenix smirked. "No dearest, Charlie said that Molly offered for me to stay the rest of the Holidays."

Rumera groaned, "This will be interesting."