A/N: This is a DMHP slash, so if you don't like, then don't read. Contains scenes of rape and abuse, strong sexual content.

Disclaimer: Don't own any of it, just what's in my head. lol

Chapter 1 – Pain

It was the night before his 17th birthday and Harry Potter wanted it to come quickly. Turning 17 meant he would be an adult, and would finally be able to defend himself using his magic.

It meant that he could finally get out of this hell hole that he had been forced to go back to for six years now, even though he had pleaded not to. But, of course, no one knew what went on inside these walls, now did they?

Nobody knew that he had been beaten, starved and abused for the passed six years every time he sat foot inside these doors.

It was now 10 pm, and he could hear footsteps coming towards his door. He heard with dread as they stopped in front of his room and someone turned the key to the locks.

As the door opened he curled into a tighter ball underneath his bed, shaking. Please, no. Not tonight, not until he turned 17!

"Oh, Harry? Come out, come out where ever you are!" He watched as his uncle Vernon made his way into the room, shutting the door behind him and locking it.

"Come here, boy. I know you're in here. It's time for your punishment for the day." Uncle Vernon bent down and caught Harry's eye, staring back at him from under the bed. He smirked and reached in to pull him out from under there.

"No, please, uncle Vernon. Please leave me alone," he pleaded. Harry Potter, The-Boy-Who-Lived, and hero of the entire Wizarding world, was reduced to a small, frightened boy in the presence of his uncle.

"Shut up, boy. You know that you have to pay for your freakiness and your weird friends. They still haven't contacted you, have they? You save them all from that chappie, what's-his-name, and they leave you high and dry. I told you they're all freaks." At this he smiled his evil smile. Nothing had ever scared Harry more than that smile; not Voldemort or all the Death Eaters that he had defeated earlier this summer before coming back to Privet Drive.

Vernon threw Harry onto the bed, face down. He tied Harry's hands and feet with the ropes that were tied to the bedposts. He thought he knew what was coming, his uncle did tie him to his bed every night to be able to beat him unconscious, but when his uncle removed Harry's pants he finally realized the horror that awaited him.

"No, don't do this! Please, don't!" Harry started to sob quietly as his uncle removed his boxers and started stroking him. He could not believe that this was happening to him! He was used to the other abuse and the beating, but he had never been subjected to this before! His uncle eventually stopped touching him to remove his own clothing.

"Now, not a sound, boy," Vernon said right before he entered Harry with force. He opened his mouth to scream out in pain, but was quickly silenced by Vernon's fist landing on the back of his head.

"I said not a sound, boy. Now you're going to have to be punished for that as well." He pumped a few times before spilling himself in his nephew. He got up and pulled his pants on before pulling out the small whip he had in his back pocket.

He then proceeded whipping the boy until his back and thighs were a bloodied mess, and Harry was crying loudly. He finally stopped when the clock struck midnight.

"Well, well. I guess we're finished for today then." He turned around and stepped towards the door. Just as he was about to close it behind him, he turned around and smirked at Harry.

"Oh, and Harry: Happy birthday." With this he left and locked the door behind him.

Harry glanced up at the clock standing on his bedside table as the final chime rang in his birthday. Suddenly he was hit with an excruciating pain, a pain that overshadowed the pain he already felt from the rape and whipping. He felt as if his entire body was being torn apart piece, by piece. Knowing that he would get in even more trouble if he screamed, he let out a muffled cry.

As he lay there, blinded by the pain, he heard a tap at his window. He turned towards the sound, and could make out three figures outside the window.

"Alohomora. Harry, are you there?" He could hear the voice of his best friend Hermione. He let out a strangled cry, trying to get her attention.

"Harry? Oh, my GOD! Ron, give me a hand getting him loose! Harry, who did this to you?" It was too painful for him to speak so he just whimpered.

"Hurts…help me…" He suddenly found himself carried out the window and into another flying car while Hermione spelled clothes for him and packed his trunk.

"What happened to you, mate? You look nearly dead." Ron mumbled to him.

"Ron! Not now, we need to get going before they catch us. What if his uncle hears us and comes barging in here?" At the mention of his uncle Harry flinched and started shaking again while mumbling to himself.

Ron and Hermione shared a look of concern for their friend. What on earth had happened to him, and why was he so changed physically? They had last seen him two months ago, but he seemed to have grown at least three inches since then and his hair had grown past his shoulder-blades. As Charlie, who was driving the car, turned it around and started towards the Burrow, they wondered what else might have changed about him.

At two minutes past midnight, Draco Malfoy suddenly awoke with a start. He was then hit by an immense pain, not unlike the pain that he had experienced on his 17th birthday a month ago. That was when he had come in to his inheritance as a Veela. He of course had no idea that his father was one as well, and with him dying in the war when Voldemort fell, he could never tell him what to expect.


He woke up to pain.

A pain unlike any other ripped through his body, and he could feel himself change. His hair grew and became lighter, he became taller and gained more muscle. When the pain finally stopped fifteen minutes later, he pushed himself of the bed and went to stand in front of his large mirror. His eyes widened in shock as he took in his new appearance. His hair was now the lightest white blonde and fell in soft waves down to his shoulders. His eyes seemed to have the colour of melted silver, instead of it's usual grey, and his eyelashes were coal-black. He looked to be at least 6'2", which he hadn't been yesterday, and his muscle seemed more well defined.

He pulled on his green silk robe over his pyjamas and went to find the only person who could tell him what was going on.

His mother.

When he found his mother in her new bedroom, she looked up at him before calmly stating;

"So, I see you've changed then. Well, your father always expected you to."

"What do you mean, mother? He knew this would happen to me, and he didn't say anything? What has happened to me, by the way?"

"Why, Draco. Do they teach you nothing at school? Do you not realize that you have now come into your Veela inheritance? Now you must of course find your mate. That will not be until they turn 17 as well, I'm afraid. You might have to wait for a while. You should still try and find them, though, he or she may already be 17 and waiting for you."

"Come again? Are you telling me that I'm a Veela and that I have a mate? That it might not be a girl? I'm not gay, you know."

"This has no importance, Draco. Your mate is your mate, and you will never be able to fall in love with, or sleep with, someone other than that person. Your mate is the other half of your soul, and the soul doesn't care if it's other half is a boy or a girl."

Draco just stared at her, not wanting to believe what she was saying, but feeling inside that every word she said was true.

Suddenly the pain dulled to a throb in the back of his mind and he lay panting on his bed, wondering what the hell had just happened to him.

Could this mean that his mate had finally come into their powers? He felt a sudden ache in his heart, and his Veela blood told him that this was indeed so, and that now would be a good time to start searching for his mate. He jumped out of bed only to stop short when he realized that it was in fact only one o'clock in the morning. He guessed that it would have to wait until later that morning before he could start searching. He sighed and climbed back into his large bed. Since he was now lord Malfoy, he had taken over the master bedroom.

He laid down and closed his eyes. Almost immediately he fell asleep and dreamed of someone with black hair and jade eyes.