Summary: When Draco discovers he's not really Lucius' son, he's truly a half-veela, he also finds out that in a few weeks, he'll attain his soul-mate. When he discovers his mate is Harry Potter, how will he react, and how does Harry feel? DMHP Slash.
A/N: Hey all! This is my first Harry Potter fanfic, and the idea came into my head after reading lots of veela Draco stories that didn't explain -why- his mate was Harry Potter, so this one does! I'll try to update often, but I'm starting school again soon, so it might not be as often as I wish. Please, review if you like, even if you don't say a lot. And also, review if you don't like. Constructive criticism is always welcome, and I will incorporate what I can into future chapters.
Warning: This story is rated R for future chapters, just to be safe. Also, slash abounds here, so if you don't like it, then meander on back and read another story.
Disclaimer: If I owned any of these characters, I would not be where I am in life right now. It all belongs to J.K. Rowling.
Lost Without You
"He'll never be as good as he truly should be, but he should serve our purposes well, my Lord."
"Very well. I shall simply have to take what I can get. He is so weak, he will probably die at the first battle."
Lucius bowed to Voldemort. "I'm sorry I could not give you better, my Lord."
Draco sat on the edge of his bed, eyes closed. He kept hearing the words and seeing that same scene, playing over and over again on his eyelids. His father was willing to sacrifice his own son's life for the Dark Lord's purposes. Draco's lip curled back in a slow smirk. Wasn't it ironic? He always bragged to his friends about how important his father was in Voldemort's ranks, and he always flaunted his "darkness" in front of those goody-goody Gryffindors. Now here he was, being offered up to You Know Who like a pathetic, skinny fish. There was a quiet knock at his door. "Yes?" he demanded curtly. Maybe it was one of those disgusting house elves; he could torment it for some fun.
His mother eased the door open, stepping lightly into the room. She was still pretty, despite that expression on her face that wrinkled her nose in disgust. "Draco dear, can I have a word with you for a second?"
Draco crossed his arms over his chest, leaning back against the headboard of his bed. "Yes," he replied shortly.
Narcissia entered the room, sitting at the foot of her son's bed. "There's something I feel I need to tell you, now that Lucius is in Azkaban."
Draco snorted in disbelief. Was his mother about to tell him his father planned to use him as an offering to Voldemort? She would face death for betraying her husband and the Dark Lord.
"It's, well, not easy to explain."
"Don't worry, I know all about it. I'm a pathetic weakling. Good looks, but nothing really practical. I'm no good for father's uses."
Narcissia lifted an eyebrow at her son. "Perhaps you should let me speak, first. You see, I'm not who you think I am."
"I assume you're really on the good side, then?" he said sarcastically. "You've been reporting to Dumbledore, or perhaps the Ministry of Magic about father's activities? You had a change of heart a long time ago and decided to go against your husbands wishes and—"
"Shut up, Draco," she told her son sternly. Draco ceased speaking, looking at his mother oddly; she had never spoken up against her husband or son before. "Let me speak. Now, as I was saying. I'm not who you think I am. I am a half-veela, as was my mate many years ago. You are our son, not Lucius' son." Draco narrowed his eyes in disbelief. What was she saying? "You see, when I was 14, my parents told me of my arranged marriage to Lucius Malfoy. Naturally my parents were thrilled the Malfoys had chosen me; our marriage would unite the Black and Malfoy families. I accepted the marriage without a second thought. My half-veela parents had never told me of something called a soul-mate, so I never thought I would have anyone else. However, when I turned 17, I felt…different. I discovered that anyone with veela blood went through a process called mate finding at that age. My mate was someone I had known for a long time, named Arna. We would meet in secret to talk of love and our future together."
"I had forgotten about my upcoming marriage with Lucius. When my parents reminded me of my duty to my family, to them, I rebelled. They knew what I was going through, them having gone through the same thing, and still they denied me life with my soul-mate. I snuck away a month before my wedding with Lucius to be with Arna for the last time. We completed the bond then, and that was when I conceived you, dear."
With every word, Narcissia seemed to sink deeper and deeper into the memories of her past. She spoke in a distant, far off voice. "I didn't know that from that moment, we would belong to each other. We couldn't live without one another. Lucius hunted us down, even though we ran. He wanted me for his bride, not because he loved me, but because our marriage had all ready been announced. Imagine the shame—his betrothed denying him and running away," she shook her head. "He hunted us down and killed my mate. To this date I can feel the pain of the Avada Kedavra curse. He forced me to take a potion that would sustain my life. It makes my soul think my true mate is near, but my heart knows otherwise. Every day is a pained existence—I constantly wish for death. He married me soon after, and when I had you he raised you as his own son. I was forbidden to ever speak of the real story to you, but you have to know, Draco," she finished, coming back to the present, looking at her son. "I told him I was going to tell you when I last visited him at Azkaban. He acquiesced; there was nothing else he could do."
Draco's silver eyes met his mother's with equal intensity. "Why tell me, why now?"
"Don't you see, Draco? You're not a true Malfoy; you don't have to follow their ways. You can choose," she whispered, as if it were a sin to even say such a thing. "You'll be 17 soon, and then you'll find your mate. Leave us, run away, hide from your father, and hide from You Know Who."
Draco slid off the bed and stood up, looking down on his mother. "I don't believe a word of it. It's a trick. If I'm veela, why can't everyone else tell? In case you'd forgotten, those who see veela are entranced by them."
Narcissia shook her head. "When they dance, others are taken into their spell. But yes, I'll agree with you that many of your veela attributes are hidden. At your birth, you were given a potion to suppress all of those characteristics that could be. Your appearance was still stunning, but it will come into its full power when you turn 17. Many of a true veela's characteristics were masked in you. Naturally, we are happy creatures, creatures of nature. We love to sing, dance, and enjoy life. We are also very possessive, and very jealous. Once you're bonded to your mate; they are yours and yours alone. I have a potion here for you, son," she said, removing a small glass vial from the folds of her robe. "This is the anti-dote for the potion given you at your birth. You'll come to understand my words in time. Take this now," she commanded him.
Draco took the potion from his mother, eyeing her distrustfully. Inside the vial an emerald liquid glittered in the light. Malfoys trusted no one, what if this was a trick? With a mental shrug, what did he have to lose anyway, he opened the vial and titled his head back, swallowing the entire contents. Warmth spread through his body instantly. Shuddering in pleasure, Draco felt every bit of light in the room absorb through his skin, heating his body. As quickly as it had come, the feeling left, leaving Draco empty and weak. He sat next to his mother on the bed.
"How do you feel?" she asked quietly.
Draco stood to look at himself in the mirror. Sucking in air sharply, he gasped. He radiated, not physically, but his beauty was extraordinary. Of course he had always been handsome, but this? He even felt powerful, under his gorgeous skin. Finally, his mother's words sunk in, and he believed her. He wasn't a Malfoy. She was right; he didn't have to bend himself to their cumbersome rules anymore. He still felt like the same old Draco on the inside. He didn't feel any nicer or closer to nature. Perhaps it would take awhile. Seventeen years of acting one way would be hard to dash in one potion, anyway. He was his own person now. He was—Merlin, what was he? Who was he? Where did he belong now?
Narcissia stood next to her son. Handing him a letter, she put her hand briefly on his shoulder. "It's from Lucius. Think about what I've said. Your life is yours to choose, now." With that, she left the room, as quietly as she had come in. Nothing from her appearance would suggest that she had just altered her son's life completely. He watched her leave, confusion writ across his face. Shaking himself from his daze, he opened the letter from his father.
I understand your mother has told you of your true past. Be that no matter, you are still a true Malfoy and bound to our name. You are the last of the heirs to our name, and you must carry it on. Whatever this soul-mate nonsense is, you had better straighten it out soon. Your "mate" must be perfect for the Malfoy line. You must have a son, to continue the name. If you dare to disobey me, I will make you suffer the consequences every day of your existence. You are mine, Draco Malfoy, don't ever forget that.
Draco seethed in anger. How dare he tell him what to do? One of the first things a Malfoy learns is that they take orders from no one. Crumpling the letter in his hands, Draco threw it across the room. Who was he to be owned by anyone? As far as he could tell, the only person who had any claim on his life was his mother. He would be damned if his father would tell him what to do, and how to live his life. "I'm sorry I could not give you better, my Lord." The words floated through his mind, painfully reminding him of just how little his "father" cared. Now he understood why he was just an object to Lucius, he wasn't his true son.
Draco walked to the window, staring out across the expansive Malfoy grounds. He could feel the crossroads coming in his life. What would he do? What side would he choose? Would he follow his mother's advice and flee, or would he stand and face the consequences of denying his father? Perhaps, however, his mate would be perfect to continue the Malfoy line. Pacing his room, Draco considered this idea. It was true; he was absolutely perfect, in every way. So, it would make sense that his soul-mate would be, too. Smiling to himself, Draco leaned back in his bed. Of course, his mate would be perfect, and he would have nothing to worry about. Lucius needn't worry; Draco Malfoy's cohort would be perfect in every way, just like him.
A/N: So, what do you think? Just click that little button down there and review, please! I know there wasn't much dialogue, but I needed to set things up. Let me know what you think!