Clumsiness was something that Harry Potter was known for, but it was the cute kind of clumsy, like a baby deer taking its first steps. It was one of the traits that made the slightly awkward man seem more kind, more approachable. Eventually, it would be one of the traits that made Draco Malfoy fall in love with him.

Orphaned from a young age and sent to live with emotionally abusive and manipulative relatives didn't break Harry. Instead, he came out of the whole ordeal with a heart of gold and a passion for helping others, volunteering his time with various organizations when he could spare it. Being able to volunteer at the orphanage to teach them how to draw and paint a few times a month was one of the greatest treasures of his life.

Thankfully, Harry's godfather Sirius and his wonderfully kind husband Remus were able to fight for Harry and gain custody of him, after a most unfortunate incident occurring while Harry was living with the Dursleys. At the age of 11, Harry was whisked away to live with his adoptive fathers, and he never looked back, unless it was to reflect how far he had come.

Harry lived in a studio apartment and worked enough odd jobs so that he could support himself. His main passion was art, ever since he discovered his mother's penchant for painting. The only way he was able to get through his degree was due to Remus teaching at the uni that he went to. Once accepted, he pushed himself hard, majoring in art as well as business, just in case. He wanted to make his parents proud.

The extra concentration was in photography, where he had met his good friend Neville. He worked whatever odd jobs Neville needed for a bit of spending money, and he wasn't complaining.

Sighing, Harry scanned his latest artwork back home to his attic bedroom at his dads' house. Whenever he was rather proud of a piece he sent it back to his old room as a portfolio of sorts. As he began typing in the numbers, Sirius called him.

Head tilted as he was on the phone, his fingers clumsily pressed the buttons of his fax machine that were covered in layers of paint, to the point where many numbers were hidden. Squinting through his smudged glasses, he glanced at the number, and it appeared to be right. Harry sent his artwork to his number, and saved it as a preset so that it would be easier to send his work home.

This is the story of how Harry Potter painted Draco Malfoy wings and set him free from the crushing weight that had been placed on his shoulders at a young age.