The Lord of The Fae

A/N: THANKS MISSA YOU ROCK MY SOCKS. It flows so much better now. Hope you enjoy new and *winks* beta version. i'm a geek I know shut up A. (my friend not ass hole, lol.)

Draco Malfoy stared impassively at the man lying crumpled in the alley way at his feet. It had happened again. This man, who he had counted a friend of sorts, had paid the price for his unwariness. Draco had warned him, he warned them all. He wasn’t like other people.

This he had known since the time of his birth. He only ate meat, or at least he preferred to. You would prefer it too, if greens produced the unpleasant stomach reactions they did in him. He wasn’t adverse to raw meat either, in fact these days he was coming to prefer it.

He was stronger then most when it came to magic, and not spell work. When it came to wizarding spells he was like everybody else. Well perhaps not everybody, he was to his everlasting annoyance, on a certain Hermione Grangers level. The thought of that filthy Mudblood harlot sent him into a rage. She always did. Harry’s choice in friends was severely lacking.

Draco snorted to himself, then again a man who would refuse his friendship for Weasley showed no sense or taste whatsoever. Then again, Draco sighed staring at the crumpled form of Denver Adams. Perhaps Harry was smarter then most people. Draco was a monster of the worst making. As a child it was easy to hide his differences, as an adult they where fast growing out of control.

Draco thought about this all the way back to his rented flat as he shut the door, anguished and tired past his tolerance. What was he? His mother had told him about the Fae of course, and he had presided to study upon them extensively. Magic beings, born of four elements his mothers ancestors where known as the Air Fae. None of them had any of the powers and abilities that Draco had.

In the corner there was a hissing noise like that of steam escaping a tiny space. He turned wearily to glare at the lizard like animal that had wrapped itself in a plush if ratty chair.

"You’re late again Draco and you smell of Death,” Slyfer’s voice was more a hiss in Draco’s ear then anything human. Slyfer was a Komodian Dragon he had found in the jungles of Brazil . Although he was no where near his adult size yet he, unlike his non magical brother the Komodo dragon, could breathe fire. That and the tiny unopened leathery wings separated him from his brother species.

“I’m coming to believe that I am death, Slyfer. I did it again, and I really liked him. I torch everyone I care about,” Draco sighed letting his head drop into his hands. It was true he couldn’t be close to anyone; he would never have what anyone else had. Love and companionship. Someone to come home to. The first time it had happened he had run from the scorched and steaming body in horror. The members of the town had chased him off, sending Auror’s and muggel police alike. Alex had been a Muggel Born.

Alex had been his first real lover and he had killed him, he killed everyone he cared about. He laughed to himself, something desperate and lonely. He didn’t need to be a Death Eater to bring death and pain. He did that just fine on his own.

“You aren’t death, nor are you a monster Draco. You are Dragon like me; fire is a natural part of mating. These mortals you insist on loving are too frail for that kind of loving,” Slyfer hissed almost angry with Draco’s sadness and fear.

Draco had heard him say that, every fire breathing lizard he talked to said the same thing. But he wasn’t Dragon, he wasn’t sure what the hell he was, but just because he could speak to them, didn’t make him one of them. Harry talked to fucking snakes but that didn’t make him one. “Unfortunate for me then, I’m built like a human! And I don’t feel like fucking any lizards’ thank you very much. And it’s not just having sex anymore I killed Bert out of anger! I was angry at him, and the fire went out of control. Sex had nothing to do with it. I’m a beast with too much magic and not enough control.”

Slyfer flicked out a pink forked tongue in disdain and cast him an almost reproachful glance. “You don’t have to tell me you have no control. I saw that last week, when you attacked the man who came to your door. All he did was knock and you went crazy nearly sliced his leg off with that sword of yours. By the way its not so bad being you, you can make a Fire Lance appear from your skin. I can’t even fly yet, so stop your complaining.”

Draco thought about the first time he had ever summoned his sword, or Fire Lance as Slyfer called it. He had been seventeen, by that time he had already fled the company of Hogwarts and Snape. He had grown tired of experiments and frightened when his anger towards the world had grown so out of control he had burned Snape. The man who had been more a father to him then his own had ever been.

He had been in the Americas a dank and dark city by the name of New York . Draco had found himself alone, without money and unprotected. It was winter and his thin cloak went no where near to protecting him. Oddly enough he wasn’t cold; his body had begun to drastically change at the age of sixteen. His flaxen hair had grown even lighter, seemed to almost blaze in the dark. His body ran hot all the time, he was sexually agitated, and adrenaline seemed to pump in his blood at a near frenzy.

Even a New York winter couldn’t chill him. In fact, he was sweltering inside his cloak. He had been contemplating that when he had come upon the men in the alleyway. They were wizards, three of them and they had a fourth wizard trapped, his back against the wall. A young man, probably only a year younger then Draco, his wand clenched tightly in his hand, he stared death in the face with a courage Draco had only seen once. As green light flashed and a voice hissed “Crucio” he had fallen to the snow withering in pain.

As he had screamed, he glanced passed his tormentor to lay sea green eyes on Draco. He didn’t know whether it was that seeking green gaze or the fire that had been swirling in his blood for a year, but something in Draco snapped and a cage door in his soul flew open. His wand was the farthest thing from his mind when he attacked. He could feel seething rage, but also an unnatural calm. His body moved as smoothly as if in flight, darting left and right.

He wasn’t aware of his nails lengthening to appear almost talon like, he wasn’t aware of the fangs bursting inside his mouth or his eyes turning a shocking electric blue with a ghostly inner fire. He wasn’t aware his hair lit as if by flame, all he was aware of was that his skin seemed to have caught on fire flames licked up and down it dancing. But it wasn’t burning, he was a cloud of fire and dancing flame, yet he didn’t burn.

It was exhilarating, a rush of power flowed through his blood stream. A jet of flame burst from his back, he could feel his skin tearing and stretching very painfully. He ignored the pain, almost reveled in it, as glistening black leather like wings burst from in between his shoulder blades. The fire cooled somewhat, it danced in his eyes and hair and floated across his wings but he wasn’t a ball of it anymore. And in his hands was a long silver sword with a red jeweled hilt. The blade itself seemed to be made of molten steel as if it generated its own fire.

Draco had looked up, the three Death Eaters where staring at him in horror trembling. He could scent their fear on the air. An uncontrollable surge of battle rage over took him. Draco had killed for the first time that night. Leaving nothing but smoking remains their screams of terror ringing in his ears. When he had come back to earth his fire had gone out, taking with it all the strength in his body. He had fallen immediately unconscious beside the body of the young man he had saved.

Alex hadn’t run anyone else witnessing what he had just witnessed would have run screaming in terror Alex had stayed. Draco whished to god that he hadn’t, that he had been like everyone else; so that he wouldn’t have nightmares about green eyes staring up at him in terror and betrayal.

“I become some sort of killing machine and that is supposed to be a good thing is it? And if you hadn’t have let Black in that night I wouldn’t have reacted that way. I was in shock, the man’s supposed to be dead”

“Well if you hadn’t have tried to slice him to death, you might have learned he is very much alive and that he can help you. Do you think I would let strangers harm you, Draco?”

“Now that’s a comforting thought Slyfer, your just a baby you can’t even fly and your fangs are still dull, wow that’s a load off my mind.”

“Not dull enough to remove a portion of your autonomy you pride yourself on Draco, so mind your manners and my pride if it’s all the same to you.”

Draco’s laugh was interrupted by the sound of knocking on his door. He stared at it, his senses flaring a warning. This was a very seedy part of muggel London , and he didn’t know many muggels. There was no reason for anyone to be knocking. He hissed low under his breath. And slid gracefully from his chair, he flicked his tongue out tasting the air. Surprise flooded his mind; he stared at the door in utter shock.

“That’s Snape outside.”

“A little slow on the uptake aren’t you. Yes, scent again and you’ll see that he’s not alone.”

Draco took another reading of the air, and shook his head puzzled. Snape had a dog with him. There was something familiar about that particular scent, but he couldn’t put his finger on it.

“Are you going to open it or just stand there?”

_ _ _ _ _ _

Severus stared at the young man of 19, who he had guarded his entire life. He of course had known Draco was different when his mother had shown up on his doorstep, clutching her baby and thrusting his leg out for Snape to inspect. A burning symbol had appeared there, as if carved in fire. He new that Draco had been marked by the Fae, but what Fae and why had remained a mystery until now. As he sank into a chair facing Draco and Black settled at his feet he stared at the young man he’d known so well and yet not at all.

He had grown taller, and had gained some muscle. He was still rather lanky and too pale for Snape’s liking. His hair, now Draco had always been blonde, but it was pure sunlight now. As if a ray of sunlight had hit it and lit it up, but the windows where closed. His eyes where blue, almost electric. Other then those changes, he looked much the same, still the same sad bitter eyes. The same haunted smirk to rosy lips, a handsome boy was turning into an utterly sexy young man. Snape felt a flush of pride in Draco.

Black stirred at his feet turning to growl low in his throat at Snape.

“You’re a sick bastard you know that. Father figures don’t lust after their surrogate sons.”

Black was talking to him, INSIDE HIS HEAD! He stared in utter shock at Sirius and was further shocked when Draco turned to stare at the dog as if he had heard it too.

“Sirius Black, so that’s how you did it. You’re Fae aren’t you?” He asked softly, a bite of menace in his voice. Snape knew that Draco’s father had driven a core of dislike in his son for this particular member of the Black family. A view they used to share. Used to? USED TO! He shrieked at himself. He still hated Black.

“Oh just give it up already Snively, you want to do dirty things to me, hot things and I wish you would just do them already. Don’t blush too much, he can’t hear us, he recognized the trail of power Fae communication between mates leaves.”

“MATES! You may be an animal Black, but I sure as hell am not. Go shag someone else.”

“Well I do, if I waited around for you I’d burst.”

There really wasn’t a reason why that statement should anger him, but it did, it nearly drove him up a wall. He wanted to give his dog a good spanking. The urge to shout ‘Bad Boy’ was imminent. He shook his head as if to clear it, and snapped. “Well good, keep your paws off me then. I warn you though, AIDS isn’t only contractible in humans.”

“Since when has a dog ever gotten AIDS!”

“All it takes is a clever potions master to mutate the disease and slip it into your food dish.”

“You’re a bastard you know that.”

“Learned from the best now, didn’t I.”

“Let’s do what we came to do alright, and I think you’re bluffing.”

“I catch you shagging anybody whether its human or dog and I’ll prove you wrong, Black. This is a rather just punishment you know. You cost me happiness once, figured I’d return the favor.”

“You have a nasty way of getting vengeance, Snively.”

“So, when did you fall under the delusion that I was a pleasant person?”

“The same time you thought I was one to take a punch and crawl under the bed.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’re going to find out.”

Snape watched, as Sirius turned from dog to man. He lay at Snape’s feet, gloriously nude and achingly beautiful. His shaggy black hair hung in his eyes rather cutely before he shook it aside. He glared at Snape before standing.

“You want to hand me something to wear Snivels or just stand there gapping at me?” It was hard not to gap. Who wouldn’t! Black was so…so... Male. His body reeked of sexual tension and of warm delights it was begging for. He was standing at half mast, and as Snape continued to stare at him, he lengthened and thickened.

Sirius had his back to Draco, Draco was admiring Black’s impressive backside. It was impressive; any red blooded male who swung a certain way would have to notice that glorious arse. So the shot of pure rage that entered his blood stream was uncalled for. Sirius shot him an amused grin and sauntered over to a Snape, his body was lithe and muscled and it had a rhythm of its own that was mesmerizing. Black drove him crazy and things were no different now. He glared at the young man and handed him his change of clothes. “Hurry up changing, we have a lot to discuss when you get back. Harry’s running out of time.”

At that Draco tore his gaze from Sirius body and electric blue eyes bored into his. Harry’s name had snapped the young man to attention.

“What about Potter!” He demanded, looking back and forth between mentor and distractingly naked enemy.

“Haven’t you been keeping up with the papers? There’s a war going on Draco and Harry’s in the middle of it. His strength is failing; it was in the front page yesterday he nearly died. He’s in a coma right now. The order whisked him away to a safe place somewhere. Were loosing, Harry’s Loosing.”

Draco had stopped reading the paper ages ago, had cut himself off from wizards and Muggels alike. So he hadn’t read any headlines. Harry had almost died; he didn’t know how he felt about that. Potter infuriated him, Potter was glory seeking, delusional and in over his head. Potter had never failed to drive him insane and he never failed to drive Potter up a wall. When the two of them entered a room together, sparks flew. He could feel Harry’s anger and his frustration a mile away.

He’d always known Potter was going to get his one day. Anyone who thought they could take on the Dark Lord was a fool, and a soon to be dead one. He’d relished bringing Harry pain and discomfort, returning the favor as he saw it. So why did a pang of loss shoot through his core at the thought of Harry dieing.