Disclaimer: None of it is mine. I only borrow them for a while and I´m not earning a cent.
Summary: During the summer before the last year in school starts, Draco Malfoy's Veela heritage is awoken. He's searching his mate and that leads him to the most unsuspected target. A hard and difficult one too. !This is DM/HP so there is SLASH coming up. Meaning male/male pairings.
This has been edited 01/2005
+ The Veela Allurement +
Ch1. The Summer
Draco Malfoy was sitting in the front of a huge window, gazing out at the setting sun. This summer had been wearisome and now he finally was home. His summer didn't sound so bad from an outsider's point of view. He had travelled with his family around the Europe and seen the most amazing things but still they were all, that is to say him, his father and his mother, disappointed. They had been looking for something very special but had not found it.
Draco sighed deeply and felt the familiar delicate pull in his chest. It had been there for a while now, having started a few weeks after the holiday had begun. First he hadn't known what to make of it. Then when he had heard the explanation, he had been a very happy Draco, for a while at least. But as the weeks went by, desperation started to sink in.
The explanation was as simple as it was complicated. Draco wasn't completely human. There was quite a bit of Veela blood running in his veins from both his parents' sides. Veela was a very old magical race and there were studies that claimed that they were actually descendants of the elves. Not house-elves, of course, but real elves that were more like wizards in appearance and that was where the similarities ended. The Elves were described to have had pointy ears and different way of moving and living all together and they had been in touch with the magic of nature itself.
As Veelas were their scions, they had some elven traits. Veelas were beautiful, very so and they had, among other things, this alluring power that made them quite irresistible. And sometimes they mated with humans, mostly with wizards and witches. There were stories about Veelas mixing with muggles too but the magical world wasn't very interested about those and in any case, such combination was rare. After all, Muggles and Veelas were far apart, when as magical folk and Veelas were similar enough.
As both Draco's parents were partly Veelas, it of course made Draco partly one too. Which then was the beginning of his current problems. His veela heritage had awoken this summer. Before it, he had been a totally normal wizard. He still was but now there was also something... more. Something that was growing every day.
Being partly a Veela was, at large, a really good thing. Draco's magical powers had increased considerably and he also had some of the alluring power and Veelas developed ability of scent. He had looked, at least according to himself, divine before and now he was simply unearthly. So there was a lot of good stuff in his change.
But a Veela's main thing in life was their mate. Finding the mate and being with the mate. This person was someone who was their other half, someone they wouldn't be whole without. Someone who was a perfect match to them in heart and soul, in any way possible and that was something still missing with Draco. That was something still keeping him back.
The pull was a sign that his perfect mate was somewhere out there and his whole being was aching after that person. Not all were so lucky, like his parents for instance. Both of them had had their match killed, probably in the last dark war and they had simply found each others acceptable. A Veela knew there wouldn't be a perfect mate for them if they didn't feel the pull before becoming of age. Even in the case that their mate wasn't simply born yet, there would be something.
Mated Veelas usually died with their mates, if because of nothing else, then due grief. But as Draco's parents hadn't even had the opportunity to find their specials, meaning the mates were dead before the Veelas were old enough, they were still alive. But as his mother had once quietly explained to him, she and his father both knew inside they weren't whole and how sad way of living it was, lingering behind.
There had been days when Draco toyed with the idea that he didn't have a perfect mate either but then the pull reminded of itself. It was imperative for a Veela to mate as soon as possible. Especially when you were a half-veela, because the mate grounded their powers which went easily haywire before the mate was found.
It was somewhat difficult to explain the relationship between a half-veela and their mate. Full Veelas weren't human and mostly lived in the passions of life with their life-mates in some ancient woods. But half-veelas had other responsibilities as well and they had human personality which developed during their adolescent years. Still, their life focus ultimately was with their mates. They would do anything for them and would love them, no matter what, until the end of time. And why not when the mates gave a lot more to them than even the Veela blood itself did. On top of that they also were the most perfect beings for them in every imaginable way. There was no one better.
And this was irking Draco badly. Not the fact that he didn´t know who his mate was, not even that he didn´t know what species his mate was, but the simple fact that he was not with his perfect mate at the moment. It was hard to accept that someone so special was out there somewhere, without him. And it wasn´t like he hadn´t been searching.
His powers were unreliable and wild. He had been unable to do any magic during the whole summer, for Merlins sake! – Well, almost for the whole summer. And as he was always subconciously searching, his alluring power went, for lacking the better word for it, wild as well.
Then there was the fact that Draco was a Malfoy. That name carried many meanings but it did not mean loosing control… Over nothing else except his mate. It wasn't counted as loosing control anyway because it was a totally different thing. The frustrating fact that he had been looking for the whole summer and failed, irked him too. Malfoys did not fail. And on top of everything else, Draco suspected that he was getting on his parents nerves gradually. They loved him in their way but as he wasn´t the result of the ´perfect match´, he wasn´t perfectly loved either. His parents lived a half-life, something he didn´t want and the pull only pointed all these faults out even more. He didn't deal very well with having faults.
They had searched among the largest Veela communities and the biggest wizarding habitats but found nothing. Actually, he had searched and dragged his parents with him. Not that they didn´t want to help him but they didn´t have the need inside them that had finally driven him quite desperate. The pull didn´t point him to his mate, only announced that the mate was there. When he would get close enough, he would smell and feel his mates scent.
His father had even used his connections in the Ministry of Magic to get a list of other half-veelas, as it was more probable to find his mate among them. But nooo, and now it was pretty certain to say that his mate didn't have any connections with Veelas at all.
Today they were home at last, at the Malfoy manor. His last school year was starting and his father had neglected family business far too long and other, more perilous business as well.
A week later, seventeen year old Harry Potter pushed his trunk and Hedwig's empty owl cage along the platform nine and three-quarters. He was early, but didn´t mind that because he needed some time to make himself presentable.
After putting his trunk in the luggage van, he suspected there would be enough stuff in the compartment from his always late friends, Harry left the owl cage in the first empty compartment he found from the end and rushed to the toilets. The mirror there wasn´t that nice to him. Not that it talked back but he himself didn´t look that good.
His aunt Petunia hadn´t allowed him to expensive waste water for a shower for the last four days. She had said that as he was going back to school he could wait and use the showers there. So, Harry looked a bit dirty after all his chores. His glasses were broken, compliment by one of his cousins 'accidents'. He was also wearing his cousins hand-me down clothes and had bandages on his other arm.
Harry washed his upper body and threw his overlarge and very worn pants, socks and t-shirt to the garbage. Luckily, he had some clothes of his own. Not many but Hermione had given him a new darkgreen shirt as an early birthday gift when the summer holiday had begun and he himself had bought the black trousers from Hogsmead at the same time. And finally he had some use for those socks Dobby, the house-elf, always liked to give him. Very odd looking socks, as the house-elfs taste was quite peculiar but a blue one with little twinkling yellow stars and a nice honey coloured one with roses managed to lift his spirits. His glasses were easy to repair. At least he now remembered how and Hermione didn´t have to bother.
Next time he looked in the mirror, he was pleased. The shirt covered his arms and bandages and little soap and clean clothes had made miracles. He didn´t have to worry about his hair. He still hadn´t managed to make it go in any other direction but where it wanted. He had few tiny cuts on his face but he was tanned enough for them to fade almost out.
When he got back to the compartement, the station clock showed only 10:15. He had been earlier than he had thought. Not by his choice though. His uncle had awoken him at five that morning, gleaming happily.
"Boy! Wake up!" Uncle Vernon yelled from the door as he slammed it open. "It´s finally time to go."
"Yes, Uncle Vernon," Harry said groggily and saw the clock said only 4:55 a.m. But his happy thought was the same as his uncle's. Finally, he was allowed away from there for good.
When he got to the kitchen, his uncle was eating a huge sandwich and drinking coffee. Apparently the morning paper hadn´t come yet and Harry didn´t like the way his uncle was eyeing him. Last time he had seen that look was when his arm was thoroughly slashed. Not a nice memory and he didn´t want to repeat the incident.
"The door is open. Take your things to the car and wait there." His uncle leaned forward and his gaze got more sharpen as he added, "and make sure, boy, that you leave nothing, and I mean NOTHING behind."
Harry had to bite back his reply and he would have enjoyed having some breakfast himself but he was, once again, being punished and that ment no food. This had been one of the longest summers ever.
True to his uncle's words, Harry found the cupboard door open and got his trunk out. It had been stashed in there as soon as he had finished his summer homework. He fetched his owl's, Hedwig, tattered cage from upstairs as well as his get-away-bag. This was the second summer he had had this bag. It was an insurace. An insurance that if things went wrong he would still have the things that mattered the most.
During previous summers he had hidden his most valuable things under the loose floorboards near his bed. But since last summer, he was aware that as useful as it was to keep these things safe, it was even better to keep all the necessary things ready so he could leave quickly if needed. He had, in his bag, his photo album, often his wand, his father's invisibility cloak, few galleons, ten pounds, paper and pen, an extra pair of clothing, a small bottle of water and one of Mrs. Weasleys pies that preserved long. And the bag was still small enough to be kept in that safe place of his.
He had to wait almost half an hour before his uncle finally came outside, snorting at him while walking around the car. Harry didn´t care anymore. His relatives had shown their worst to him and he had survived. Such warm hearted people.
It had been tiresome to stay in that house after his fifth year. Actually, it had already been awful before but after that it was like some battle of the wills, living there.
"Heave that trunk of yours in the car and get in the back yourself. I will give you a ride to London, only to show you our generosity again," his uncle ordered and then muttered just loud enough that he was sure to hear, "which a thing like you of course can´t appreciate. But at least this way you're out of our hair as soon as possible."
Of course Uncle Vernon hadn´t open the boot so Harry had to travel squashed with his trunk in the back seat all the way. When they arrived at the first streets of London suburbs, his uncle stopped the car.
"Get out boy! This is it!" His uncle shouted while getting out.
"What? Are you going to leave me here! The station is still miles away," Harry couldn't help but sputter.
"You heard me. This is the last of it you freak. Little exercise will only do you good," his uncle seemed very pleased with himself while saying that.
Harry sighed and got out. There was no point arguing about it but as this was the last of it he couldn´t help but add, "Are you sure? I mean I have done much of the chores outside and got a lot of that exercise." Harry waved his bandaged arm casually.
His uncle stopped and turned his little eyes at him. He was getting quite red. "You shut your mouth, freak. We should´ve made you do much more but you had to make yourself useless! Just make sure we won´t see or hear anything from you ever again or from those freaky friends of yours. And no owls or we treat them just as Dudley proposed. Is that clear?"
Harry had sometimes wondered if the Dursley's actually believed what they said. It just sounded so stupid at times.
"You´re so sad, you know uncle Vernon. I pity you. I didn´t use any magic this summer though I could´ve. I´m not underaged anymore. Didn´t you realise that? And I bet you didn´t think, even once, that I might want to revenge everything you have done to me after I graduate. It would be so easy with magic." Harry drew out his wand and waved it in front of his uncle's nose.
"But I´m not like you," he continued. "That was the most important lesson you taught me. How to not to be prejudiced or let your fears controll your life and how to defend yourself."
Harry's uncle had lost all red color from his face and was looking sick. It was nothing what had been said, Harry was sure, that would have only made his uncle more furious. But seeing a wand tended to have such a nice blanching effect on his relatives.
He put his wand away. He had still one point to make clear.
"Uncle Vernon, if any, ANY owls arrive, they shouldn´t but IF they do, I suggest you let them leave unharmed. This is only an advice but as I have no reason to write to you, it will be from someone else. And that someone is probably a fully-grown wizard. And what do you think that person will do when he finds out, and there's no doubt about it that he will, that someone has harmed their owl?"
Harry turned and pulled his trunk out while his uncle was still in a daze. After all, he had never spoken to him this way nor drawn his wand… well, actually he had but not quite like this.
As expected, soon his uncle snapped back again and was quickly acquiring a lovely shade of crimson. "You filthy thing!" He spat but couldn't keep a slight quiver out of his voice. "NEVER COME BACK TO OUR LIVES AGAIN!" That was the last thing Harry heard before his uncle stooped in the car and drove away. It was a fitting end, Harry thought, to his connection with his relatives. No lies, no acting but true and malicious to the very end.
The way to the station hadn't been that bad. He had walked slowly, carrying his trunk and resting once in a while. The traffic was unhurried and he didn´t attrack that much attention. When people started to get out and the shops opened, he changed his pounds into smaller denominations and called a cab from a pay phone. The station wasn´t far and his money was enough. Thank Merlin he had been prepared.
Harry snapped out of his thoughts and looked outside the window, stunned at the sudden movement everywhere. The station clock showed 10:50 and the students were hastily boarding the train.
"Reparo," he said and with a wave of his wand he finally got his Hedwig's cage repaired. She wouldn´t have been pleased if it was in such a terrible condition when she would be back. That was another thing Harry had been thankful for this summer. That he had had the brains to order Hedwig to leave to Hermione as soon as he had seen his uncle waiting at the station in the beginning of the summer.
Dudley had been very dissapointed that Hedwig was gone. Evidently he had made quite plans for her and realising that she was no where to be seen, Dudley had took his rage out on the empty cage. Not that Harry would've allowed his cousing to harm her but he hadn't actually been of age yet at the time.
He looked at the big station clock again that was now 10:55 and found himself becoming worried. Not that the Weasley's had ever made it in good time to the station but we're his friends trying to miss the train this year?
a/n. Please review and tell me what you liked, what you didn't like, what you would've written differently. This story is still missing beta btw. So, if you think you're interested, mail me. I'm sorry if there's still disturbingly many grammar mistakes but English isn't talked daily in my country.