Disclaimer: Not mine.

Warning(s): Slash, melodrama, Veela, OC's (Draco's father and grandparents)

Author's Note: I just thought I'd reassure everyone that, despite the release of HBP, I'm not going to abandon any of my fics. (I know I'm repeating myself, but I felt that need to do it.) This chapter (finally) moves the plot forward! (Shock and awe!)


Chapter 11: The Truth Revealed

When Draco woke from his nightmare his clothes were soaked with sweat, and his heart was racing fast. He groaned as he hauled himself out of bed – the light falling across his bed was enough to tell him that it was late enough to get up – pulling on his bathrobe and fumbling downstairs to the kitchen.

Stumbling down the steep steps of 12 Grimmauld Place, Draco barely registered the unfamiliar voices filtering into the hall from the slightly open living room door.

"They're making you do lessons over summer break? Not just homework, but full fledged lessons?" someone asked incredulously as Draco pushed the living room door open.

"Don't be silly, Ron," Harry said to the fireplace. "It's not like I'm going to need to remember any of the stuff Mrs. Chamberlain is teaching him – I think the Headmaster just wants to make sure that Draco has a friend."

"How can you call the ferret that?" an ugly, Weasely head in the fireplace all but screeched.

Well, Draco thought. That at least explains why Harry is talking to the fireplace.

"He's not that bad, Ron. He just takes some getting used to," Harry sighed. "He's been down right pleasant for the last couple of days."

"Yeah, well, try not to strangle the git."

Harry laughed, and Draco's eyes glazed over at the happy sound. "I'll try."

"Harry!" a shrill, female voice cried, and Draco peered over one of the stuffy couches in time to see another head appear. "Ginny says she's really sorry for touching you."

Draco's hands curled into fists. "Potter," he said as pleasantly as he could. "What are you doing?"

"Oh," Harry said, turning to smile at Draco, his mismatched eyes twinkling happily. "Good morning, Draco. I was just talking to Ron and Hermione about the situation here. I hope you don't mind – I told them about your heritage."

"No problem," Draco said, inwardly thinking that yes, this did pose a problem, but it wasn't like he could deny Harry anything anyway. "I'll be in the kitchen."

"Sure," Harry said. "Your grandmother said we had today off – something about dreams? I'm not sure. She's in the kitchen with your mother, why don't you talk to them?"

Draco nodded and made his way from the room, half-listening to Harry's continued conversation with his friends. When he reached the kitchen he paused before going in, hearing raised voices.

"… and you have the gall to come here?" his mother was saying in her angry voice – not yelling precisely, but far scarier then any of Lucius' threats had ever been to Draco.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Narcissa," his grandmother replied coldly. And wasn't that interesting, he'd thought that the two of them would get along. "It has nothing to do with me."

"Right, and I'm Harry Potter," his mother spat.

Draco was about to go in anyway and see if he could mediate when a hand descended on his shoulder.

"I wouldn't," his grandfather, Edward Chamberlain, cautioned. "Never get in the middle of a cat fight – it's worse then a duel with a Dark wizard. Come, let's go sit in the dining room until they're through."

"All right," Draco said, shooting one last look at the closed door. "If you're sure we can't stop them from arguing."

The old man snorted as he and Draco sat at the dining table. "They've never gotten along. Elizabeth was never happy with Narcissa being Rowan's mate. She wanted a nice, Veela girl – not a pure blooded witch."

"Why'd you send my father to Hogwarts, then?" Draco asked curiously.

"He could use wizard magic – bloody useful if you ask me, but Elizabeth didn't think so. You see, my side of the family has always been prone to wizard symptoms. I'm something of a wizard myself, only basic things though. When Rowan was born, he inherited his gift for Wizarding magic from my side, and his powerful Veela magic from Elizabeth's. It was only two magics in combination with a Veela hair wand that allowed him to go to Hogwarts in the first place.

"Rowan was more feminine then the other boys though, so he got the mickey taken out of him quite a lot. And of course, it didn't help that he showed no interest in anyone romantically until Narcissa. Hogwarts was hard on him in a way it isn't on a lot of other kids.

"He didn't go after anyone until my mum? Is that normal?" Draco inquired. "It's just, I did go after people before – I didn't feel for them like I do for my… my mate, but I did 'go after them' if you get my drift."

Ed laughed. "I do indeed. Don't worry; it's just the dilution of the Veela in your blood and your upbringing. Had you been raised as a proper Veela like Elizabeth wanted, you wouldn't have looked twice at anybody else."

"She wanted me to be raised as a Veela?"

"Of course! As soon as she found out Narcissa was pregnant with Rowan's child she tried to collect the both of you. Narcissa wouldn't come, she said that if she did Lucius would kill Rowan." Draco's grandfather sighed and shook his head. "Rowan was, of course, already dead at that time, but Narcissa wouldn't believe us. She insisted on staying behind."

"Oh," Draco said quietly. He could remember his mother when he was younger, she'd been a lot like she was now, but had gradually faded into a cold woman. The perfect Malfoy, Lucius had told Draco repeatedly. That bastard.


"He is my son!" Narcissa yelled. "He is my son and will not leave my side!"

"He is my grandson, and more importantly, he is a Veela, Narcissa!" Elizabeth screeched. "He needs to be with his own kind!"

"No, he needs to be with his friends! His family!"

"His mate?" Elizabeth asked acerbically. "He has different needs then he used to, Narcissa. You will let him come with me."

Narcissa's eyes glazed over as the Geas was cast.

"Draco will leave Hogwarts and come live with us," she continued, smiling slightly as Narcissa began to nod her head.

There was a flash, and Dumbledore tumbled out of the fireplace. Narcissa's eyes cleared.

"Narcissa! Elizabeth! Just the two women I wanted to see."

"It's always a pleasure, Albus," Elizabeth said regally, as the Headmaster bent over to kiss the knuckles on her right hand. "To what do we owe the honour?"

"An offer of employment, my dear," Dumbledore answered. He glanced at Narcissa. "For both of you."

"Employment?" Elizabeth asked, affronted. "Surely you don't think Edward and I are in need of money?"

"Or course not," Dumbledore said, shaking head firmly. "I merely thought you might want to continue teaching Draco once school starts. We have a temporary teaching position open if you and Edward would agree to come work at Hogwarts. And Narcissa, Remus could use your help around here – especially when it comes to controlling Kreacher."

Narcissa nodded right away. "Of course, I'd love to," she said.

Elizabeth, on the other hand, was more cautious. "What could we teach the students? We can't use wizard magic."

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. "Care of Magical Creatures of course," he replied. "Our usual teacher is currently negotiating contracts with the Giants and is unavailable until at least Christmas."

Elizabeth thought for a moment, and then sighed. "I suppose we could," she said eventually. "It would certainly help us teach Draco what he needs to know, and even better, it would give us the opportunity to correct some of the Wizarding World's misconceptions about magical creatures."

"Wonderful!" Dumbledore exclaimed, clapping his hands in a manner not unlike that of a four year old. "And may I inquire; has Harry been informed of his… destiny yet?"

Elizabeth frowned. "No," she said testily. "And my grandson is suffering all the more for it. He has nightmares every night now, Albus. Tell the fool to tell his mate."

"It is Draco's decision to make, Elizabeth," Dumbledore said placating. "If he does not want to inform his mate of their connection yet, we must respect his wishes."

"Even is they're just causing the both of them more pain?"

The twinkle in Dumbledore's eyes was somewhat subdued as he nodded his head. "Even then."


Harry was standing outside the kitchen, ear pressed against the door, when someone tapped him on the shoulder.

"Harry?" Draco asked. "What are you doing?"

Harry just managed to swallow his yelp of surprise before turning to face the other boy. "Sorry," he said, flushing. "I thought I heard my name, but they were talking about you."

"Oh? What did they say?"

Harry blushed even harder. "They were just, uh, talking about your mate. Saying that you should tell your mate sometime soon so you'll stop having nightmares."

Draco smiled softly. "They don't start out as nightmares," he said. "And sometimes they're quite, um…" he trailed off, realising that he was currently talking to his mate. He flushed. "Well, you know."

Harry smiled at Draco. "Yeah, I do."

For a split second Draco felt like grabbing Harry by the neck and demanding to know who the other boy was dreaming about in such an inappropriate manner, but he fought it down in favour of asking Harry a pressing question. "Shall we go eat?"


Many miles away, Lucius Malfoy was tearing through Narcissa's bedchambers, hair and clothes in complete disarray.

"That bitch," he growled, causing the two house-elfs twisting their hands in the doorway to flinch. "Taking my son. Who does she think she is?"

Another piece of furniture was upturned, revealing a small, wooden box.

Lucius smirked and wrenched the lid off, tossing the folded handkerchiefs out and coming across a piece of worn paper. As he read the words written on it, he felt the rage that had been boiling below the surface of his mind erupt.

The windows in the room shattered.

Lucius had been taught French at an early age, and so it was no great feat for him to read the letter Rowan had written to Narcissa. Disgusted, he dropped the missive and left the room, apparating out of the Manor as soon as he reached the foyer.

The letter lay face up in the middle of the repackage that had once been Narcissa Malfoy's private chambers.

Ma Narcissa, it said. Il pleut. Ah! méfie-toi de l'amour. J'ais voulu le fuir parce qu'il me faisait du mal, comme j'ai voulu fuir la ville et ses tentations…

And, at the very bottom of the page: Mon amour et mon fils – Je t'adore.



Mon amour et mon fils – Je t'adore. - My love and my son – I love you.
(The rest of the French is not really important to the story, but if you can read it, hooray!)

Author's Note: I love my reviewers soooooo much! Don't give up on this story, I fully intend to finish it! Please review!