I don't own Harry Potter. No suing please.


There will be deaths here so if that isn't what you want to read, you are now warned.

Also, I'm breaking a cardinal rule of writing by making this story, 'write what you know' and all that. Because, even though I'm seventeen, I have never been in a relationship, nor have I had a crush on somebody, not that I'm aware of anyway. So I have no idea the emotions involved in this sort of thing...so if it seems a little unreal to you that's probably why. Just tell me what you think it should be and I'll do my best to make it more real.

Chapter 1

The Hogwarts Express gleamed scarlet before him. Puffs of white steam escaped from wherever steam came from on trains to float mystically in the air before fading. Draco snorted scornfully. The train didn't even run on coal. It was enchanted to travel to and from Hogwarts. The steam was there to mystify first years, mudbloods, and their stupid muggle parents.

The blond boy flicked his hair out of his eyes in an abrupt angry movement. He was wearing it down this year, having come to the horrifying realization that the slicked back look made him look like he was wearing a helmet all the time, and he still wasn't used to it hanging in front of his face.

Platform 9 ¾ was nearly empty this early in the morning, but those people that were there were beginning to give his slightly disturbing looks, which was exactly why Draco had come this early.

You see, the Malfoy family had a secret. Narcissa Malfoy was veela. She was carefully kept out of the public eye as much as possible, for it would be shameful to have the wizarding world know that for all their pureblood posturing, there was a veela in the gene pool. Narcissa didn't really mind being hidden away, at least not that Draco noticed, as long as she had her mate, Lucius. But being Draco's mother, this meant that he was half veela and when he'd turned 16 a little over a month ago he'd received his inheritance. This basically meant Draco exuded sexual magnetism like it was going out of style. And, as nice as it was to have a couple of people rushing to and fro on his every whim, it wouldn't do to have a mob of lust crazed people after him.

For most veela or part veela this wouldn't be a problem. They would simply tone down their magnetism to manageable levels and be done with it. But Draco hadn't learned how to yet, even though he'd had his inheritance for over a month. His mother, by all rights, should have taught him control by now but with his father in Azkaban, he couldn't help a flicker of pain that accompanied the thought, Narcissa was half mad from being separated from her mate and in no condition to leave her room much less teach her son about being a veela.

He could still remember the way she looked that last time he saw her, a miserable shadow of her former self. Her normally pristine face was red from crying, her eye's blood shot and more than a little mad. She's taken one look at him and started screaming at him to get out of her rooms. When he didn't obey fast enough she threw a priceless figurine at him to hurry his steps and broke into anguished cries. Pleading for Lucius to come back. That had been the first day back from school. He'd avoided her rooms for the rest of the summer. He didn't want to see the pathetic creature that had once been his mother.

That could be him. Draco prayed every night, to any God he could think of, that he never found his mate. The mere thought of anyone having the power to reduce him to a whimpering mass like that made him shudder. It was unthinkable.

His mother was another thing Draco had to pay Potter back for. One in a long list of things, which included refusing his hand on the train in first year and getting a position on the Quidittch team in his first year, causing Father to be disappointed with him.

Draco climbed onto the train. He carried no luggage. That's what house- elves were for. Settling himself in an empty compartment Draco pulled out a potions textbook to pass the time. Contrary to popular belief Draco received his high score in potions on his own merit. He actually quite enjoyed potions though he wouldn't persue a career in it. Malfoys didn't work in the brewing industry. It made for greasy hair and Malfoy's always looked the best. But anyway, now was a good a time as any to get some studying done. Snape always gave a pop quiz on the first day back from summer.

Eventually door slid open and Blaise Zabini backed into the compartment dragging his trunk.

"Hello Draco," he said amiably "how was your summer vacation?"

"How is it that you always seem to know where I am?" Blaise had been doing it for years and it drove Draco insane.

"It's just a matter of following oh my God!" Blaise had gotten his first glimpse of Draco's new look.

Draco sat back, enjoying his reaction immensely.

"How often have I told you not to use that muggle term Blaise?" he asked nonchalantly.

"But- I- wha-?" The other boy shook his head in an attempt to clear it. "What the hell? You're ho-I'm straight! Turn it off!" It didn't work very well.

Draco's smirk widened.

"You have known me since I was three Blaise. You knew very well that I came into my inheritance this summer. Stop staring and acting surprised and put your trunk away."

"I would if you'd turn that bloody attraction off." Blaise snapped and then immediately became apologetic and then angry that he was apologizing.

Draco's good mood vanished in the blink of an eye.

"I can't, Mother hasn't taught me how yet." Draco looked away, vaguely embarrassed.

Blaise gathered himself together with a visible effort.

"What? She sent you to a school full of horny teenagers without knowing how to control your powers? Is she insane?"

Draco concealed a flinch; she might very well be, and snarled back at the boy.

"Well, she wasn't exactly in the best condition to teach me with Father gone. Because of Potter." He spat the Golden Boy's name out like acid and continued to fume in silence. Blaise knew better than to comment.

"It's not that bad." Blasie tried to look on the bright side. "all you have to do is find your mate, right? And then your attraction level should go down."

Draco made a noncommittal noise and hoped his mate wasn't within a hundred miles. Or better yet, he hoped his mate was dead. Yes, that would do nicely.

"Hello Blaise." Pansy stuck her head into the compartment and simpered at the boy. "Have you seen Draco?"

Blaise pointed to the blond boy who was currently trying to hide behind his potion textbook. The look Draco shot him promised dire consequences as Pansy caught sight of him, latched onto his arm and began to drool on his sleeve. She was not a very close friend of Dracos. She didn't know he was part veela. All she knew was that suddenly he was irresistible.

"Have I ever told you how beautiful you are Draciepoo?" She fluttered her eyelashes.

"Yes, Pansy, many times. Get off my arm."

"Oh you're so funny Draco! You know you don't need to play hard to get. You can have me anytime you want." She trailed a hand over his chest and looked up at his with lust clouded eyes. Draco recoiled in disgust and wrenched the hand away. How dare she!

"You stupid whore! I'd kill myself rather than be with you!" Her eyes filled with tears, face twisted in anguish. Devastated that such a thing of beauty had rejected her. Still, she clung to his side.

Draco glanced up to Blaise for help and was taken aback at the jealously he saw there. The other boy's eyes were fixed upon where Pansy clutched him. When he glanced up to Draco's face it was a long leisurely trip up his body examining it as though it were some priceless artifact to be possessed. Draco felt suddenly claustrophobic; he had to get out.

"I'll be back when you two can control yourselves." He tossed out lightly hiding his sudden panic and tore Pansy's hand off his arm ignoring her small cry of pain. He made for the hall and breathed a great sigh of relief as the door slid shut behind him.

He regretted it almost immediately.

People in the corridor stopped what they were doing. Silence spread down the hall. One by one they took Draco in and licked their lips. For the first time he really appreciated the danger he'd put himself in by going to Hogwarts without having control of his magnetism. Someone could very well rape him while they were consumed by lust. This was not the time to be without someone he trusted not to jump him the second his back was turned.

Two doors down Justin Flinchsomething or other, Draco had never bothered to learn the mudbloods name, stepped out of his compartment, caught sight of Draco and smiled hungrily. He started forward, lust gleaming in his eyes, at just the moment Draco decided the other end of the corridor looked rather enticing and began walking away. Justin followed.

**Fuck! Not a day into school and I'm going to be molested. By a mudblood no less. **

At the end of the hallway the blond boy panicked. A glance over his shoulder confirmed that Justin was nearly on him and looking more lecherous by the second. Where to go? Where to go? He finally darted into the last compartment, heart pounding and hoping that whoever occupided it was able to keep hold of their libido better than whatshisname could.

Three feet into the compartment Draco froze. It was indescribable, the smell that reached him. It curled around him warming him, energizing him. It smelled like dirt and sweat and faintly of peach shampoo. Perfect, absolutely perfect. Draco needed more, he could never get enough.

Draco Malfoy had found his mate and all he wanted to do was go find a corner to curl up and die in.

It was Harry Potter.

The dark haired boy mocked him with his tantalizing flawlessness. His wild black hair fell haphazardly, adorably. His beautiful green eyes blinked bewilderedly at him from behind his glasses. They sparkled in the morning sunlight streaming through the window. Pale skin and long thin limbs were as enticing as any artfully posed centerfold even though they were folded simply in his lap. When the boy reached up to run a graceful hand through his hair Draco had to suppress a whimper and the urge to catch that pale hand in his own and never relinquish it.

It was awful. Wrong. Pansy might have been better. Draco was torn between bolting from the room and sweeping Harry up and snogging him senseless. The compartment door slid open. Draco made up his mind and darted to the window, incidentally next to Potter, and turned to face the mudblood boy. The three bewildered people that made up the Golden Trio turned their confused gazes from the Slytherin to Justin who stared into the compartment for a moment his expression unreadable. He looked hard at Draco a moment then shook his head as though to clear it and frowned.

"I- I'm sorry. I came here for something...but now I can't seem to remember what. Sorry to have bothered you." He cast one last bemused glance at the Slytherin and backed out. The Dream Team turned their gazes back the blond.

"What was that about Malfoy?" Weasly asked, arching a freckled brow. "Your body gaurds nowhere to be found so you ran away from a little muggleborn?"

"It's none of your business Weasel." Draco sneered. "Coming in here was a very unfortunate accident I hope to forget soon." Merlin, he wished he could forget. Why couldn't Voldemort have been competent and killed Potter off when he was a baby?

"That makes two of us." Potter shot back.

The veela opened his mouth again to spit something that would undoubtedly be really nasty Potters way and found himself mute. He tried again, nothing. He shut his mouth with a horrified snap. And under the puzzled eyes of the three Gryfindors he drew the remnants of his pride about him like a tattered cloak and stared down his nose at them.

The effect was sort of ruined by the way his knees went all watery when Harry licked his lips.

"If you've got nothing to say Malfoy, leave." Potter said coldly.

Any other time Draco would have sat down just to spite him. But this time Draco felt tears prick the corners of his eyes and cold hand squeeze his heart. The veela gratefully began to flee the compartment as the train lurched into motion knocking him off balance. Potter reflexively caught his arm to steady him. He yanked his hand back with a hiss and watched as Harry's face hardened and then pointedly turned to Weasley.

"Who do you think will win the Cup this year?" he asked. Ron blinked in confusion.

"Um...Puddlemere has a pretty good chance I guess."

Their voices became muffled as Draco shut the door behind himself. The blond rubbed at his wrist where Harry's had burnt him and planted his feet. He refused to run back in there and fling himself at the Boy Who Lived like he wanted to.

What the hell was he? A girl? Malfoys don't go around flinging themselves at the first person who catches their fancy. And they certainly did not get teary eyed when said person dismissed them.

~ Get a grip Draco. ~ He scowled ferociously and headed back to his compartment, reducing a group of first years to tears on the way, just to prove to himself he still could. Blaise looked up as he entered, Pansy was absent.

"Hey! You're not sparkling anymore."

Draco sneered and sat down, he needed to think about this. Blaise wouldn't leave it alone, he'd been sharing a dorm with Draco too long to be properly intimidated.

"I mean, you nearly normal, I don't want to kiss you or anything." He rambled.

Draco felt disgusted even thinking about kissing someone other than his mate. "Thank Merlin for that."

"The only way you could have stopped the attraction," Blaise went on like Draco hadn't spoken, staring thoughtfully at the blond boy. "was by finding your mate or learning to suppress your powers."

Draco stared back coolly.

"That Justin boy, from Ravenclaw, nearly molested me in the hall. I suppose I suppressed the atraction subconsciously so he'd go away." He offered.

It wouldn't do to have Blaise know he's found his mate. The boy would go picking around where he wasn't wanted until he found it was Potter and then ridiculous matchmaking schemes would ensue, and those definitely weren't wanted. Draco would kiss Dumbldors ridiculous shoes before he willingly became Harry Potter's boyfriend. Although his lips did look tantalizingly soft and Draco could only imagine how exquisite his eyes looked when clouded with lust... Draco roughly pushed the unwelcome thoughts away and resisted the urge to shake his head.

"I guess that, makes sense..." Blaise continued to watch him though. "You're sure you didn't smell anything?"

"Other than the stench of that mubdblood that mudblood that tried to molest me? No." he ground out.

Blaise opened his mouth inquire further but Draco fixed him with a stony look and stared him down.

"I'll just go find Pansy and tell her it's safe to come and apologize now." He volunteered and disappeared out the door.

"You do that. And while you're out pick up a bottle of poison would you? I'd like to off myself." Draco muttered to the empty room


It was impossible, unthinkable. But it was undeniably true, as evidenced by that wonderful scent that teased him even now. And the way that, against all better judgment, he dearly wanted to return to Harry's compartment, throw himself at the boys feet and beg forgiveness – and maybe a kiss – for all his past transgressions. Over his cold dead body! They'd have to torture him and use the Imperious curse first.

The veela folded his arms stubbornly and brooded. The problem with his resolution to not throw himself at the Gryffindorks feet however was that whenever he'd get near the other boy the feeling of wanting to pounce him would get infinitely stronger. Draco had learned that much at least from his mother as a child. So keeping up the usual Potter insults was out of the question. In fact, avoiding the boy as much as possible seemed ideal. Though his heart gave a pang at the idea he ruthlessly squashed the feeling.

No one showed up in the compartment for the rest of the trip. Blaise must have passed the word around that Draco was in one of his 'moods'. So he was free to plan out how he would avoid Potter.

At the welcome feast Draco spent most of his time trying not to stare at Pottter and failing miserably. And somehow between the questions from Blaise about who he was staring at and the apologies from Pansy "I'm so sorry Draco! I don't know what came over me. I thought I'd gotten over my crush on you last year." He had time to notice how sad Potter looked. He picked at his food, barely laughed and rarely joined in with the conversations around him. Draco wanted to rush over and comfort the boy. At the same time he was laughing at him. Served the Golden Boy right, getting his godfather killed. Draco had warned him he was on the wrong side of the war but did Harry listen? No. The Boy Who Lived was above listening to other people, and look what it got him. A dead dog for a godfather.

Despite the fact he immediately felt contrite for think sure awful thoughts about his beautiful mate, Draco stuck stubbornly with them. He they were derailed by obnoxious laughter. Pansy had evidently noticed Potter distress. She was laughing pointedly in his direction. Anger bubbled in Draco.

"Aw, is Potter still sad about killing yet another person?" She mocked across the hall. Whispers broke out everywhere. Someone else was dead? No one else had heard of this. Draco gripped his fork until his knuckles went white as Harry bowed his head. No one was allowed to pick on his mate!

"Don't worry. You did everyone a big favor." She smiled nastily. "One less stray mutt to plague the world."

The rest of the Slithering table joined her in laughing at him. Ron and Hermione leapt to their feet, rage in every line of their bodies at the same moment that Draco slammed his fork, point down, into the last of his food. Later the house elves would have to throw the plate away because the fork went right through, splitting the plate in half and no charm they could work on it would put it back together again.

He snarled at Blaise. "Password."

The other boy blinked. "What?"

"The password. Give me the password now." Draco rumbled and despite himself Blaise recoiled from his tone.

"Shining scales. Why?"

Draco didn't even bother answering. He stood up so fast it jostled the bench and stormed out of the hall leaving his puzzled friend behind. Mealtimes obviously were going to be a problem too. He'd wanted to jump on Pansy and beat the living daylights out of her for insulting Harry. This was huge! It was one of the main Slytherin dinner topics. You disparaged Harry Potter or you kept your mouth shut. He wouldn't be able to sit with his friends at practically any meals without wanting to hurt at least one of them. It was appalling. His life was ruined, as well as any aspirations of continuing being the king of Slytherins.

When Draco reached his bed he sat down on the edge of it and put his head in his hands. He had never in his life hated being a Malfoy more than he did at that moment. He thought curses at his mother for being a veela, for being weak, for not preparing him for this, any of it. He was blind and deaf, fumbling his way around a room he had never been in and couldn't leave and feeling like a right arse doing it. Some days it just didn't pay to get up in the morning.


Draco began implementing his plan the next day. He rose earlier than most of the other students, certainly earlier than the notoriously heavy sleeper Harry Potter, and ate breakfast quickly. In NEWT potions Draco sat in the very front so that if he went to stare at Potter he'd have to twist all the way around in his seat. He stopped making fun of Potter and Co. because when the black haired boy snapped back it was like being hit with a sledgehammer, he was reeling afterwards. Outside of class he kept mostly to the dungeons, library and the Slytherin dorms. Places that the great Harry Potter avoided as much as possible.

Unexplainably, Draco witnessed a steady decline in his health over the first weeks of school. A flight of stairs became a monumental undertaking that left him out of breath and shaky. He slept longer and longer. He'd become dizzy in the hallways or when he moved too fast. Despite his friends urging he refused to visit Madame Pomfrey. He was sure it would pass in time. They relented in their urgings after he threatened to expose some sensitive materials to the public eye.

But it didn't go away, and if anything his longing for Harry had gotten stronger. It was all encompassing now. He dreamt of the boy. And during the day it was almost all he could think about. In those rare moments he saw the other in the halls he had to repress the urge to follow him around, just to see what he was doing, like some deranged stalker. His past behavior was a constant painful pressure on his mind. Potter probably hated him and there was nothing he could do about it. And yet he didn't regret it and if he could shut off his veela instincts he'd go right back to tormenting the other boy, and be happy about it. Well, Draco couldn't really imagine being happy about making Harry miserable at the moment, but he supposed he would be. He'd been that way before.

The whole thing was driving him insane! He'd just be walking along and Blaise would say something funny and Draco would think, "I wonder if Harry would think that was funny?" and not only would he be mad that he'd thought of that he'd be sad he didn't know the answer and irritated he was sad. As a result Draco was almost always in a bad mood. The other Slytherins were permanently walking on eggshells around him.

One day Draco would up and stood, gently holding the bedpost until the, by now, familiar dizziness passed. Only this time, it didn't. It faded until he almost didn't notice how the floor felt unsteady beneath his feet. The part veela rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and wished fervently for the bed behind him. But he had a project due in Transfiguration that he couldn't miss and he'd slept enough lately. He went to bed as early as possible and took naps in-between, and sometimes in, his classes. Staggering into the shower he washed and dressed, having to clutch the bedpost again as he leaned over to pick up his clothes, or he risked falling over. He picked up his bag with an effort that had begun to worry him and headed to the stairway that led to the common room.

He never made it there.



Alright people, I seriously need some opinions here. Possible information that I'd really like to know is:

The narration: I don't like third person POV it always seems rather cold and impersonal when I'm writing it. I prefer 1st person POV but that would be bad for this story. So please tell me if this is too cold or maybe too descriptive and how I can fix it.

The romantic longing stuff: I've never liked anyone that way so this might be way off. Is it too much? If so tell me what is too much. Is it not enough? Tell me what would be good to add. Is it all wrong? Tell me how to fix it.

A beta, I am currently doing this all myself and I always miss stuff. So if anybody would like to beta please let me know...


This is essentially a test chapter. I'm pretty much seeing what I did wrong so I can fix it and go on with the rest of story with this in mind. I don't really plan on posting anything else with this until it's at least mostly done. So don't expect anything else right away. And PLEASE be nice when you review. I'm very cowardly about my stuff and flames would probably send me packing.

Oh yes, and I'm aware that Draco is at least a little OOC. It's pretty much impossible to have him in character for this sort of thing. If he was in character he wouldn't be a veela and he'd hate Harry's guts.