Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Dragons Heritage	By : Doragonkage Category: Harry Potter AU/AR > Threesomes/Moresomes Views: 50298 -:- Recommendations : 3 -:- Currently Reading : 6
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, or the Dracken concept, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. Harry Potter belongs to J.K Rowling

Chapter List
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The sound of locks opening woke him up a while later and a red faced, more so than normally, Vernon stood at the door, holding a large package in his right hand, glaring at the boy who tried rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

"Been telling your freak friends our address, have you boy?!" He bellowed out, anger lacing his voice as he all but tossed the package onto the floor where it landed with a heavy thud.

"W-what...?"Harry managed to speak-up as he set his hands down and blinked a couple of times, looking at the man, who looked much like he would be on him without a moments notice.

"I-i haven't...i swear!..."Harry defended, scooting against the wall as the man stepped into the room, those big hands balled into fists.

"You better have not, or you'll be in a world of hurt boy, i do not want any more of your junk in my house, am I clear?” Vernon bellowed out, looming over the boy, even with the distance still in between them.

Nodding his head shakily, hoping for the floor to open up and swallowing him whole so he wouldn't have to face the hurt he was certain to be getting. In the back of his mind, however, there was another voice that wished the opposite.

To lunge at the human and rip it to shreds, to dispose of the threat to his well-being, and try as he might Harry couldn't keep everything he had gained last night, from sprouting forth, but he was thankful it were only the claws on his fingers that pushed out, those he managed to hide into the futon, which he was gripping like his life depended on it, as he merely nodded his head vigorously, not trusting his voice at all.

Seemingly pleased with himself, and the reaction he had dug out from the brat, Vernon straightened himself up and huffed before turning his back on the boy and leaving, once more locking the door behind him, leaving the boy to his solitude for now. With Vernon gone Harry finally lowered his eyes down to the package on the floor and leaned towards it carefully to pull it over to his lap.

It was a heavy package, about a foot in length, half in width and a quarter in girth, wrapped in neat brown paper with neat writing on it that said.

" To Harry James Potter

4 Privet drive

From Griphook

Gringotts Bank London."

With a small smile on his face Harry placed a hand on the writing, and while he knew that goblins never sent gifts to anyone, he considered this as one. Bringing the claw of his right index finger under the string that held the paper in place Harry made quick work of revealing what he had gotten.

Emerald eyes widened as they took in the item. Rich, pale blue dragonhide bindings with the text

"Dracken lore of the Potter line" written in silver and in a clean cursive. Placing a hand on it to feel the hide and the text, he let out a gasp of surprise as the book snapped open with a small crack, the cover smacking against his knee to reveal the first page, onto which text was slowly forming in the same, neat cursive as the writing on the cover.

Watching, almost mesmerized, as the writing just appeared onto the page, reading it once it was through.

"Greetings be to ye, Heir of the house of Potter, the receiver of the heritage of the dragons. No doubt you have a lot to ask, and to all of your questions, you may find the answers on the pages of this old tome, but to unlock its secrets, written down by the first to carry the dragons blood, a drop of blood is required, to confirm your identity, and the right of your heritage." Beneath the text a small runic circle formed, possibly to indicate where the drop was required.

"Well, isn't this a nostalgic scene...a self-writing book,"Harry mused aloud to himself as he moved the book aside for now and went to his trunk to fetch what he presumed to need.

With a quill, some parchment and ink in hand harry seated himself in front of the book again and rolled his bottom lip between his teeth as he held out his right hand, holding out the index finger as he held the quill in his left, bringing the sharp tip of it against his finger sharply, letting out a small hiss as the skin was breached and a small drop of blood instantly swelled up.

Holding his finger flat, as not to drop the blood just yet, Harry set the quill down and brought his left hand to grab the injured finger and guided it over to the little circle and squeezed, working his finger until the little crimson drop fell in the circle, which flashed briefly.

Bringing his finger to his mouth to suckle on, to stifle and heal it, Harry watched as tendrils snaked out from the runic circle and slid down over the bottom edge of the paper, and just as he was about to flip the page, he blinked anew, dumbfounded as the book flipped the page itself, showing how the tendrils of ink snaked about and coiled here and three, it was like watching a plant grow while on fast-forward.

Here and there small circles of ink appeared and within each circle a name appeared and from between those names some others branched out, presumably children of the couple in question, but looking at the page he saw many a Potters here and there, but his fathers name eluded him, if this was truly a Potter family heirloom of sorts, then why wasn't there a mention of his father? It was worth looking into when he went to the Weasleys in a month.

But looking at the very top of the list of names,more like a family tree, Harry saw that his name appeared, in a similar circle as the others, with a date, just like the others, and seeing how it marked this day, Harry assumed that those were the dates when these others gained their heritages, but looking at his own name, and the one before it, there was a good two-hundred and fifty years in between.

/Has this book been lost for that long?...or was it that there were no others to claim this as theirs? It would certainly explain why my parents aren't here at all.../ Harry thought to himself as he ran his left hand along along the long list of names, that is until a single line of text appeared on the middle of the next page.

Looking over Harry tilted his head a little, yup...This was quite the trip down memory lane as the book interacted with him, by asking him a question. The single line that had appeared on the page read .

"What colour are your wings, young heir?" Reaching his right hand over, and finally popping his finger from his mouth, Harry took his quill and dipped it in the pot of ink after opening it. Taking the quill down to the paper he wrote, quite simply, and crudely in comparison tot he text already there the color of his wings

"White." Not like he could forget the radiance of them, seemingly catching any, and all light and reflecting it back tenfold.

Unlike with the diary of Tom Riddle, the ink didn't get soaked into the page, instead the question and answer moved up to line up along the top of the page to make room for more to appear, and by the time the ink stopped snaking about, forming words and small depicting images, the whole page looked nearly black with the tiny scribble.

Picking the book up from his lap Harry scooted back on his bum so his back was against the wall and he got comfortable, only to loose all sense of comfort at the first phrase he read that had his brows knitting into a frown.

" The colorless state of our wings states that we are a submissive..." Was this book telling him that he was going to be someones bloody punching-bag and a way to vent their sexual frustrations on? If so, then people better be DAMN well on their toes, he'd bloody castrate them if they tried, he was NOT going to be a punching-bag for the rest of his life.

With a frown heavily set on his face Harry set to actually finishing what it said, even as he was determined to bin the whole thing if it kept making the rest of his life look like nothing more than a tool for someones liking, but as he picked up from where he left off, he quickly learnt why white winged ones were called submissives.

While in the days when this book was written, the position of a "wife" was not in as good of a condition as it was now-a-days, the submissive was the one who cared for the young, the house and feeding of their mate, or mates, another fact that had Harry put the book down again in favour of thought.

Did this mean that he would possibly have more than one Dominant, as the book had called the other caste of Dracken as, the men, the hunters and the providers as well as the guardians of the family, and how would he know who? There was so much to learn, so with his mind set Harry set out to read again.

Through-out the day, which he was thankful for once that he was left alone, ignored and forgotten, Harry learnt quite a few things, that usually a Dominant would make himself noticed by a submissive, show them their wings, bring them prey, even hunt the submissive in ways of chasing them down till they wore-out or the submissive did, either way, it was not a submissive’s job to find a mate, but a dominants duty to find a submissive and once the submissive had found the required amount of dominants to perfectly ground them, they would settle into a life of their own.

It wasn't till he finally closed the book, late in the evening, that Harry let out a small, content sigh pass his lips as he reclined fully against the wall, sliding down a bit as he hugged the book to his chest. The cause for the smile rested neatly on the pages, the one thing Harry had ever really wanted...a Family.

People to love and who loved him, and while he was quite taken with the concept of possibly requiring more than one, or even two, mates it was another notion that had the brunette smiling even wider still, and that was the possibility to have children of his own, a fact that would weight heavily on his choosing of a mate, if he was to have more than one, then all of them would have to consider every single one of his children as their own, even if they were not by blood, he would not have any child of his loved more than another by any of his fathers.

Setting the book down on the floor, on top of the paper it had been wrapped in when it came here Harry got up and stretched himself, cracking his back and shoulders, letting out a soft groan of delight from the motion, he hadn't even noticed being quite that tense before he'd gotten up, ah well that's what you get for lounging in bed all day with a good book.

"Just four more weeks...then I can start really looking into all of this." Harry said to himself as he made his way to the barred window and looked out, just four more weeks of this and he'd have a resemblance of freedom, maybe he'd even get a chance to try out his wings.

The mere thought of said appendages had them forming, pressing against the skin of his back, and it was gratifying to notice that this time there wasn't pain, well not nearly as much as there had been last night, in fact Harry lift his hands up and looked at them, concentrating on his claws and to his joy they grew out, pushing out of his nailbed, consuming the regular nail there, effectively growing over it without removing it.

Next Harry willed his scales to the surface and then did the same for his feet, but this time he did one thing at a time on one foot at a time, it took a while but he still managed it .

With his feet and hands done and over with, he turned his attention behind himself, trying to work himself into gaining control over the wings that were still hidden beneath the skin, but try as he might he couldn't get them to come out neatly, they always just sprung out in a manner that spun a tale of pain and hurt.

Yet even as there were drops of blood involved, there was no pain, no agitated nerves or anything, just a brief pinprick along the length of his back and there they were, flexing and curving to avoid hitting the walls or the ceiling, a shame to confine them so, but there was nothing he could do about it, not yet.

Letting his attributes to show, walking around his room for a while, admiring, thinking and dreaming of things to come, deciding to tell Dumbledore, once the school year started again, to see if the headmaster could offer some assistance in this mate-business he'd have to undergo sooner, rather than later.

Once more willing away his Dracken attributes, Harry stretched one more time before slumping onto the bed, granting the book by him a glance before making himself comfortable, today had been a good day, he'd been left alone to his own devices, and since he'd made no noise or otherwise aggravated his “hosts”, he'd actually enjoyed his birthday here, in the Dursley residence, that'll be a first, and the last ever Harry thought to himself as he got comfortable and let sleep claim him, tomorrow would surely not be like it.
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Dragons Heritage