[id: Two digital drawings of a pink hornless long-like dragon with a large fluffy mane, small eyes and ears on a broad head, fish fins on his tail and rosette spots on his face and legs. The first picture is just the dragon's head while the second picture is the dragon curling in flight against a simple blue background. /end id]
Redesigned Leo since I wasn't super happy with what I did the first try at drawing him. Will properly redo his post when I redesign his human form to.
His dragon form is lion+alligator+catfish
Old version below:
[id: Digital art of a different version of the same pink long-like dragon. Here his mane is smaller, his face narrower with bigger eyes, he's got different darker fish fins on his back and tail, slightly different whisker placement and greyer spots. The first image is just the dragon's head and neck while the second is the full body in simple profile against a blue background. /end id]
Weredragon who starts off transforming into different animals and wereanimals based on stay thoughts with their eventual dragon form being a chimera based on the critters they turned into most often.
Four out of five dentists would recommend against reading this piece (1.7k). Think of your teeth!
“Uncle Harry, did you know Uncle Draco is a weredragon?”
“A what now?” he frowned, tucking the duvet under Teddy’s chin.
“A weredragon. Like how dad was a werewolf, but with a dragon.”
Harry huffed a small chuckle. “I’m pretty sure he isn’t, Ted.” To be fair, considering all the things he’d learned about him since Malfoy adopted Teddy, Harry wouldn’t be too surprised if he actually turned out to be a weredragon. It won’t even be the most shocking discovery.
“No, he is. All the best people are were-something, he said. So he’s a weredragon.”
Harry resisted the temptation to ask if he was a were-something, too. “All right then, menace, go to sleep. You can tell me on Sunday if you’d seen him turn.” He shook his head through all the begging, bargaining and trickery, until Teddy finally relented and closed his eyes. Harry chewed on his grin, pressed a kiss to Teddy’s forehead, murmured in his ear and left, silently closing the door behind him.
And then heading out with his usual gracefulness – accidentally knocking into the dresser with a big yelp, stepping over every creaking floorboard, smacking against the door because he wasn’t really looking ahead, he was looking for – ah. Malfoy heard him, it would seem. Standing at the kitchen doorway, leaning against it like some sort of model in a Muggle magazine, rolling his eyes. Harry noticed he was holding his breath.
“Care to join me for a drink, Potter?”
He didn’t know why he was nervous. This happened every night.
The thing is, Harry loved Teddy so much. So, so much, he even considered adopting him himself after Andromeda and all. But Harry’s stupid job was too stupid to allow it, and Malfoy was technically ‘family’. And so Harry came by every day – well, night, stupid job and all – to see how Teddy was doing. And then, every night, he’d run into Malfoy, who had no choice but to invite him for a drink. It would be wine, sometimes, or flavored butterbeer, or – and only once – straight up Ogden’s whisky. But mostly it’d be hot chocolate, which apparently was something Malfoy enjoyed, and something Harry seemed to find quite irresistible.
Of all the new things he’d learned about Malfoy, this was perhaps one of the most surprising. He made the best hot chocolate. It was the perfect temperature, the perfect sweetness, the perfect texture. Perfection in a cup. Harry followed him into the kitchen, sat in his favorite chair (somewhat dangerously with the way Malfoy’s books were stacked so high behind his back), and turned his gaze to the fridge. Teddy’s newest masterpiece was magicked to the door, and even squinting Harry couldn’t tell what it was meant to be.
“A wolf,” Malfoy muttered as he laid a cup of hot cocoa before Harry. “Your godson is very talented, you know.”
Harry hummed into his cup, probably smearing his nose full of whipped cream. “Bet you I could draw a better one.”
He waited. Some nights Malfoy wasn’t in the mood. He’d be tired, or closed off, and they’d just sit there in silence and stare. Some nights he was restless, far too giddy to stay still, and they’d go for a walk in the forest. But tonight –
Tonight Malfoy was game. He scoffed and summoned two quills and some parchment. “Let’s see – five minutes, best drawing wins?”
Harry grinned privately to himself. There must have been something in that hot chocolate, because he couldn’t stop thinking about how he just loved spending nights at Wiltshire.
*
“Uncle Harry,” Teddy asked one Sunday, sliding into his wellies. “Did you know that Uncle Draco had a pet a stag?”
“What?” Harry was busy arranging a beanie on his orange hair with his tongue between his teeth. “A pet stag?”
“Yeah, when he was a kid. I asked him why he likes them so much, and he told me. His name was Arold and he was very stupid, Uncle Draco said.”
“Arold?” Harry laughed, tilting his head. “Ted, you know Uncle Draco is messing with you, yeah? He never had a pet stag. You can’t have stags as pets.” Malfoy had peacocks, which he hated, and the eagle owl, which he loved, and that was that. No stags. Harry knew that. He picked up every single piece of information about Malfoy slowly, carefully, and catalogued it all in his head. Malfoy was afraid of hippogriffs (still) and very enthusiastic about nifflers. He wanted a kneazle really badly as a kid, but his mother was allergic to the fur. Harry knew these things, now. He even had this insane idea to get a kneazle for him and Teddy, a fantasy he liked to entertain from time to time. Teddy’s words brought him back to reality with his cheeks oddly flushed and his ears ringing.
“That’s what he said.”
Harry wondered why Teddy thought Malfoy liked stags to begin with, but he’d already ran outside and jumped into the nearest puddle, so the question had to wait.
Malfoy was in the kitchen when they returned, and Harry plopped down next to a steaming mug of hot cocoa. The clutter all around practically screamed we actually live here, and Harry felt the warmth of it in his bones. His eyes kept zooming from Malfoy, to Teddy, happily blabbering about the squirrel they’d seen on their walk, and something in him thrummed. We actually live here. The flavor of want was sweet and sadly familiar.
*
“Uncle Harry,” Teddy asked one night in November, a tired little bundle of curiosity that ached in Harry’s chest with affection, “What’s emveeos?”
“Huh?” Harry stopped at the doorway, eyebrows drawn.
“Emveeos. Like if I was emveeos of someone.” Teddy gave him an exasperated little look, a come on you should know this one when Harry simply shook his head. “Uncle Draco said he’s emveeos of me.”
“What? When?” Harry’s heart did a funny little leap. He still didn’t really understand the question, but apparently the mere mention of ‘Uncle Draco’ was enough to ignite this heat inside him.
“Because you always kiss me good night.”
Harry could only shrug, but the heat intensified into something near intolerable. “I dunno, Ted. Best to ask him tomorrow, yeah? You know Uncle Draco is better at these things.” Better at most things, really. Cooking, drawing, writing, teaching. He was just good at everything. Even dancing – Harry had seen photographs of a very sulky boy beautifully performing the tango, no joke. And he could make the best hot chocolate. And –
“Okay. Good night, Uncle Harry.”
“Good night, Menace. I love you.” Harry made sure to tell him that every night, even if Teddy was already asleep. It was good for him too, he thought, to get the practice.
That night there were mini marshmallows in the mug. Harry couldn’t help it anymore; he was so enamored with the – drink – it felt a little like an explosive device in his chest. He found a way to distract Malfoy for a couple of seconds while he covertly drew a vial of the cocoa, stashing it in his pocket. There had to be something wrong with it, a potion or something. There had to, or Harry was losing his mind. He’d lost enough things for a lifetime, he thought.
*
“No, Uncle Harry! Cookies first.”
It was the week before Christmas, and Malfoy was out on a last minute gift shopping trip. Harry and Teddy were in the kitchen together, in charge of lunch, though Teddy was more interested in sampling the Christmas cookies Malfoy had made. To distract him Harry suggested they try to prepare Malfoy’s cocoa – well, also so he’d have something hot to drink when he comes back, because Malfoy always suffered from the cold.
“Oh, Uncle Draco doesn’t like hot chocolate,” Teddy shook his head.
“But,” Harry didn’t know what to do with this information, which stood in stark contrast with everything he knew in this life. “He drinks it all the time with me.”
“No, no, he says it’s too sweet. He never drinks it.”
Harry felt utterly lost. The knowledge he’d collected of Malfoy was the foundation with which he was trying to build this – it was what he stupidly thought he could use to make a home. Hell, he’s been practicing – getting ready for – and all this time, Malfoy was lying?
When Malfoy returned Harry pretty much threw himself at him, boxing Malfoy at the door with all his shopping bags.
“You don’t like hot chocolate,” he said accusingly, and Malfoy’s eyes went big.
“What?”
“You don’t. And you told Ted you had a pet stag and that you’ve embossed him or something like that. But you don’t like hot chocolate.”
“I – “ Harry’s never seen Malfoy so flushed in his life, and was furious with how adorable that was. “All right. I don’t.”
“But you make it almost every night,” Harry contested. He felt a little woozy.
“Yes.” When Harry gave an odd grunt, he closed his eyes. “You like it.”
“So?”
“So…” Malfoy’s shrug was so painfully sad. “I thought you’d… come here if you…”
Harry didn’t wait for the sentence to finally come to a stop, it was taking forever. “So you just lied?”
“No!” two grey eyes opened, sort of panicked. “I just – I’ve been trying, all right? all this time, to learn to… to get to know you. All these things about you, and then I saw how much you liked it when I made hot cocoa for Teddy and – I just. Want you to. Have. Things that you like.”
Harry couldn’t feel his tongue. His head was spinning. He didn’t know what to do about this, didn’t know what to think, didn’t know – he just didn’t know. Sadness was familiar, and losing, and being lied to, but – but this –
“Kiss him, Uncle Harry!” a little voice carried from behind him, and startled he caught a glimpse of blue hair. Hell. A quarter of his age, and Teddy was at least twice as clever. Harry leaned forward and did the only thing that made sense, and the kiss was solid enough to build on. Malfoy’s lips were the sweetest thing he’s ever tasted. Hot chocolate, no matter how good, could never compare.
Wow, I really ran away with this one... Today was day 6 of my Seven Sins of Drarry one-shot collection, and was all about - Teddy almost had it: envy! Hope you’re ready to be good, because there’s only one sin left!
Day 1: wrath | Day 2: lust | Day 3: sloth | Day 4: greed | Day 5: gluttony | Day 7: pride
Written for @avatar-hauntober's October 16th prompt: Family Curse
I swear I'm going to stop starting new fics soon and update the ones I have. But in the meantime I bring you a weredragon!
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
Title: Beauty and the Dragon (I tried to think of a better title and failed)
Relationships: Iroh II/Asami Sato
Rating: T
Summary: Iroh has been cursed to find his mate by his 30th birthday. There's only one little problem: once a month, he turns into something no one could possibly love. Yet if he fails, he'll remain in his beast form forever.
Mick Rory, tiny dragon extraordinaire, goes on a spying mission for his husband Len. Nobody notices him (unless he “accidentally” sets some books on fire in the bookshelf he’s hiding in) because he’s so tiny and when he is discovered usually he’s just mistaken for an adorable pet. Although, the adorableness wears off a little bit when he bites someone for trying to pick him up.
[id: Three digital drawings of the same character in two different forms against a grey background or a grey background with a blue rectangle on it.
A portrait of a dragon's head. The dragon is pink with a paler pink mane. It has an otter-like head, large tusks, and catfish-like whiskers coming from its chin and cheeks. There are faint rosette spots on its cheeks and white spots around its eyes.
A fullbody drawing of the same dragon standing on all fours and facing left. It has a body like a shortened Asian dragon with short cat-like legs, a fish fin on its back, and a fish tail fluke ending its tail. Its round belly is pale and there's dark pink rosette spots on its legs.
A drawing of the dragon in human form from the hips up depicted as a light-skinned chubby Black man with long red hair in a ponytail and freckles wearing a pink hoodie and grey sweatpants./end id]
'Leo', one of the weredragon characters for that story I'm thinking around with.
Leo could be short for a lot of things like Leonidas or Leonardo or Leon, the character uses a lot of different names due to bad run-ins with fairies and witches. For the same reason, Leo refers to his allies only with nicknames he comes up with.
In the story, Leo is one of the strongest weredragons known to the protags. He's mastered shapeshifting, levitation, weather control, firebreathing, lightning spitting, astral projecting, and hypnosis. He also knows a good amount of spells.
His dragon form comes from his preferred transformations of lion, giant otter, and carp.
