Hey I know I was meant to wait until I finished THE LAMBS or INDELIBLE, but there are only four chapters of INDELIBLE left, an

Hey I know I was meant to wait until I finished THE LAMBS or INDELIBLE, but there are only four chapters of INDELIBLE left, and I have one of those written already. So, here is the first chapter of SOUL SEEKER.

The banner is by Emriel. There will be two more chapters set during DH, and then chapter four, etc. will be the AU parts.

"Soul Seeker"

Disclaimer: Harry Potter, et all are property of JK Rowling, and Bloomsbury, and Warner Bros and all those other nifty people that make it so we can read and watch the Potterverse whenever we feel like it.

Banner: Banner by Emriel – zip . it .

Summary: HP/DM Harry didn't watch Severus die, so he never learnt that he was a Horcrux. When Voldemort was defeated Harry made sure not to get hit by the Killing Curse, and therefore a part of Voldemort's soul still lives on inside him. When Draco is freed of the Dark Mark, his Veela heritage starts to search out his Mate, but his Mate's soul isn't calling out to his own like it's meant to. Instead, the Horcrux is calling out to Voldemort's soul, and Harry's scar is still hurting. All is not well. Alternative ending to DH. No Epilogue.

Warnings: Slash. HP/DM: HP/George (minor). AU. Character Death. Violence. Language. Veela.

Rating: R/NC-17 SLASH!!

A/N: I hope my post-series is original enough? I only ever did one Veela fiction and it was a one-shot, so I'm trying my hand at a longer version… Like I said, I hope it's original enough.


Words: 4,917

Chapter 1

The Inheritance

June 5th 1996.

The school year had only just finished, and those who had completed their NEWTS or OWLs were free to floo home earlier than the other students, who had to wait until the Hogwarts Express left on the tenth. Draco Malfoy was one of those who went home early. Then again he had a good reason to be at home right then. The fifth of June was his birthday, and he was about to turn sixteen. While seventeen may have been the age of magical adulthood, sixteen was a very important age to those awaiting any creature inheritances.

For the past nine generations, the men of the Malfoy family had become Veela on their sixteenth birthday. Draco would be no different.

He was nervous, and slightly afraid, which wasn't surprising as he was about to go through a life changing experience. He was also relatively annoyed. Usually the Veela would be left alone with his parents or guardians. In this case, Draco had his mother, father and godfather with him, as well as an Auror. His father had been arrested at the Department of Mysteries a few nights ago, but because Draco was a Veela Lucius had been allowed to attend the transformation – with a chaperone.

It went against every instinct Draco had to allow this stranger to watch him change. But he didn't have a choice. Either Auror Banks watched, or his father didn't watch.

Draco frowned, and lay back in his bed, his head sinking into the pillows. "What time is it?" He was shirtless, and the covers had been kicked down to the bottom of the bed.

Narcissa Malfoy answered. "3:54pm, darling. Just a little longer." Draco hadn't been born till ten past four. Narcissa was tall and pale, with waist length blond hair and bright blue eyes. Her husband was a little taller than her, his hair inches shorter than hers but it was a paler shade of blond, almost white. And his eyes were silver-grey, the same as his son's. Draco was tall as well, not that you could tell with him lying down, and he had a narrower frame than Lucius, which indicated that he was likely a submissive.

There were two types of Veela: submissive and dominant. If you were a dominant male, then your mate was likely female, and vice versa. If you were a submissive male then your mate was generally of the same gender – but the Veela was the submissive because Veela could naturally bare children, no matter their gender. The men had both sets of anatomy. There were very few same sex pairings between women, although no one knew why.

If you were a dominant, the Veela's wings would begin to grow after the inheritance had begun, but if they were submissive, the wings wouldn't appear until the bonding was completed. The wing type was different as well. Dominants wings were as wide as a person was tall, and they were floor length. Their purpose was to protect their mate.

However, a submissive used their wings to determine fertility. If they were very fertile, the tips of their wings would turn silver, and if they were pregnant the tips would turn black. You couldn't get pregnant the first time you have sex because the wings wouldn't have left the submissive's back before orgasm. It was only after full intercourse that the wings appeared, and only when the wings appeared could pregnancy occur. The submissive's wings would be able to differentiate rape from consensual sex; if a Veela were raped the Veela may feel guilty but as the wings wouldn't have appeared they would still be considered pure. If they had sex with someone other than their mate, it was well within their mate's right to reject them and demand a new Veela from the Veela Council. These 'new' Veelas were usually submissives whose mates have died before the bonding, and where therefore still pure.

Usually both types of wings were white, but if the Veela were no longer able to bare children, or impregnate another, their feathers would turn grey. Draco rather hoped his wings came through now. He didn't think he'd be able to live with the embarrassment of having that Auror know he was submissive to someone else.

"What time is it?" He asked again.

Before anyone could answer, he arched his back. His mouth opened in a silent scream as he felt a burn along the curve of his spine. He rolled onto his stomach panting, and waited. He could feel his hair growing; like someone was pulling at it, strand by strand, and trying to stretch it out. When it stopped, his white-blond hair was brushing his chin. His back continued to burn, but it was a pain that was ignorable. It wasn't like how his father had described it. Lucius had told him that it felt like someone was cutting strips off of his own back then reaching inside to pull his wings out manually. But that didn't happen to Draco. When the burning had dulled to a faint tingle, he rolled back over.

He gave his father a shy grin. "So, I'm a sub then?"

He tried to sit up, but Lucius pushed him back down. "It's not over yet." Draco grinned as he lay back. This was the part he had been looking forward to.

During the Inheritance, the Veela always – without fail – caught a glimpse of his or her mate. They were soul mates, and the Veelas soul was pulled towards the soul of their other half. If the Veela was lucky they saw exactly what their mate looked like, and where they were. More often than not, they caught flashes of their mate's memory and facial features and were then left to work out the identity for themselves. Fortunately for the Veela, the mate's soul usually attempted to seek out theirs in return. Which meant that if the Veela were in close proximity they would feel compelled to approach that person, to touch them, kiss them. Like Werewolves and Vampires, who both had life mates, Veela were Soul Seekers; they had to seek the other half to their soul before they could be completely happy.

Draco's eyes fluttered closed and a small smile spread across his lips. He almost felt his consciousness drift away, but he wasn't so much focused on himself as he was on his mate. Draco tried to pay attention to what was flashing in front of him, but the memories were passing so quickly and he really wanted to skip to the end when he would see his mate. Draco caught sight of a dark haired boy running from a group of five bigger boys; a dark haired boy running up the stairs as a fat man shouted at him from the landing; a dark haired boy screaming as another man fell backwards through a black curtain.

Then the memories stopped. Suddenly, Draco could see him! He was right there, close enough to touch. Draco allowed one of his hands to move forward, aiming for the mop of raven hair, wanting desperately to run his fingers through the silken strands. As the fingers touched, the other boy danced out of the way and gave a throaty laugh.

"It won't be that easy, Malfoy." The boy said and Draco was sure he recognized that voice. It was so familiar. Draco waited for him to say something else, but the boy didn't. Familiar green eyes stared back at him, sparkling in amusement, behind glasses. Draco knew those glasses; he spent many hours complaining about how ugly they were, but he couldn't remember whom they belonged to. He couldn't make out anything else about his mate either; just the colour of his hair and his eyes.

"Who are you?" Draco breathed out softly, reaching for his mate again. His heart was pounding furiously, but Draco didn't feel as if someone was tugging it from his chest like his father had described.

"I thought you were supposed to figure that out yourself?" Harry Potter grinned at the blond. Harry wasn't really there of course; he wouldn't know anything about Draco's dream, or about being Draco's mate for a long time. But just like in real life, he was proving to be a pain in the arse.

"I demand you tell me who you are!" Draco crossed his arms over his chest and frowned. Harry leant forward, and Draco's eyes fluttered closed as Harry pressed his lips to Draco's. They were soft and warm, but Draco's couldn't taste them. "I can't feel you," he whispered, pulling back. His heart wasn't beating as fast anymore. He opened his eyes but his mate wasn't there any more.

His mother looked down at him. Her eyes were wide and she was wringing her hands in front of her stomach. Draco wiped at his face and pulled back his hand, realizing it was wet. "Dragon?" His godfather asked. Severus Snape was one of his professors and his Head of House as well. He wasn't a very nice man, but he was kind to Draco and Draco's family.

"I can't feel him." Draco's voice hitched at the end, turning the word into a small sob. "I can't-" His hand clamped over his mouth before he could finish the sentence. His Veela didn't want to admit it out loud or hear it said. Draco had seen his mate so his mate must exist. There had to be a logical reason why he couldn't feel his mate's soul calling out to his own. But logic wasn't something a love sick Veela possessed, and when his mother reached out to touch him, Draco burst into tears. He didn't even care that Auror Banks was still in the room.


June 12th 1996.

Draco had spent the last week desperately waiting to feel his heart leap into his throat, or for his head to get dizzy as more flashes of his mate assaulted his memory. But nothing came. Narcissa tried reassuring her son that there was nothing wrong with him. He had a mate. He had seen a mate.

"Maybe it's because your mate is younger than you? A lot younger?" She had suggested. After all Veela mates had to be at least fifteen before their soul could call out to a Veela. "You may have to wait a few years, love, but your mate will come."

What neither of them knew, was that Harry's soul was too busy fighting off the piece of Voldemort's soul that had lodged in his scar to call for Draco. As long as Harry was a Horcrux he wouldn't be able to enter into a soul bonding, nor would he be able to seek out his soul mate.

"Maybe," Draco said quietly. He looked down at the paper clenched in his hands and frowned. "I wish father was still here."

The headline read: Death Eaters captured at Ministry. Harry Potter was right all along! You-Know-Who is back!

"You know he can't be." The moment Draco had calmed down after his inheritance, Auror Banks had demanded Lucius return to the Ministry holding cell.

"It's all Potter's fault." Draco snarled, throwing the paper into the open fireplace. He watched the pages burn and tried to ignore the way his stomach twisted into knots. "I hate Potter. I just wish he would die!"

"Draco!" Narcissa scolded.

Draco's eyes watered, and he had to press a hand to his mouth because he was afraid he might throw up. When he stopped feeling ill, he said, "if he wasn't here everything would be ok." Narcissa watched as a tear made its way down Draco's cheek unnoticed, but she didn't say anything. She had a slight idea who Draco's mate was but, since she didn't know why he wasn't reaching out to the Veela, she didn't say anything. Draco's arms wrapped around his stomach and chest. His heart hurt, ad his stomach felt like someone had just sucker punched him, but he didn't know why. He just figured it was one more thing to blame Harry for.

The fireplace suddenly sprung to life and Bellatrix Lestrange's face appeared in the flames. "Draco, the Dark Lord has summoned you. Make haste."

Draco jumped out of his chair. Narcissa stood up as well, slower and calmer than her son, though her heart was beating its way out of her chest. She didn't want Draco to be a Death Eater; she didn't want Draco punished for Lucius' mistakes. Draco ran from the room. When he was in the hallway, he leant back against the closed door and took several deep breaths. He wasn't ready for this. He didn't think he'd ever be ready for this. But it was time.

"Blinky!" He called. A house elf appeared before him, bowing low so its nose touched the ground by Draco's foot. "Fetch me a plain black robe. Hurry." The elf disappeared and returned, holding out the robe. Draco grabbed it without thanks, and shrugged off the one he was wearing. Blinky picked it up off the floor. Draco pulled on the black robe and buttoned it up. With one more deep breath, he pulled the hood up shielding his face, and entered the study again.

"Aunt Bella, Mother," he greeted. "I'm ready."

Bellatrix's face left the fireplace, and Narcissa grabbed the pouch of floo powder off the mantle piece. "You first Dragon." She held it out to him and he grabbed a fist full before throwing it into the fireplace and calling out the destination. He stepped into the green flame and left. Narcissa followed suit, calling "Riddle Manor" before the flames twisted around her, pulling her to her destination before burning themselves out.

The room they arrived in was empty except for Bellatrix, but she led them to a room that was filled with Death Eaters. Lord Voldemort sat upon a throne at the front of the room, directly opposite the door they had entered through. Draco's first instinct was to glare the other man down, to force him to lower his eyes first, after all a Malfoy submitted to no one. Only, he was a submissive wasn't he? And his father bowed to this man.

And look where it got him, the Veela in him cried.

'That's Potter's fault,' Draco thought back, ignoring the shriek the Veela-half of his subconscious made.

Draco looked to his mother's lead. She waited until she was directly in front of the Dark Lord before dropping to her knees, her forehead touching the floor. Draco copied her. He wanted to look at Voldemort, to see what kind of person he was following, and to understand what it must have been like for Harry. He was too afraid though, so he waited until he was addressed before he even twitched.

"Draco, look at me," the voice demanded. It was a strange hissing sound, half human and half snake, Draco thought but he didn't mention it. He slowly raised his head, still kneeling, and let his eyes fix on Voldemort's chin. He wasn't brave enough to meet the crimson eyes of the man he was pledged to follow.

What he could see of the Dark Lord's face was unattractive. Pale, transparent skin stretched over bone, a lipless mouth and two slits on his face instead of a nose. He didn't look higher than that, but he could guess the man was hairless.

'No where near as attractive as my mate,' Draco mused silently.

"Draco," Voldemort hissed quietly. "Look at me." Draco took in the hairless head, and the lack of eyebrows. This time he looked above the man's eyes, instead of below them. "Look at me." He repeated, "or do I dissatisfy you?" There was a touch of anger in that last statement and Draco hurried to do as he was told. He met the red gaze full on, and tried not to flinch at the emotionless stare of the other man. "Hold out your left arm."

Draco held his arm out, using his right hand to push the sleeve up above his elbow. He watched as Voldemort touched the yew wand to the white flesh of his underarm.

"Do you wish to serve me?" Draco couldn't make himself speak, so he nodded. As a Veela he was meant to be loyal to his mate and his mate alone, but he was too afraid not to swear allegiance to the Dark Lord. "You will have to prove yourself. Do you know the identity of your mate?"

"Not yet, my Lord." Narcissa answered, as Draco remained silent. "Complications have arisen regarding the age of my son's mate."

"I see," Voldemort said even though he really didn't understand the complexity of Veela mating. "You will complete one task for me Draco." Draco hated how Voldemort assumed he could be so familiar with him. "I wish for you to find the Room of Hidden Things in Hogwarts. One of the house elves will lead you to the correct floor. Inside you will find a Vanishing Cabinet; it is one of a pair. Mr Borgin has the other. You will demand he fix it, and pay him for his services. Then you will fix the Cabinet in Hogwarts yourself. When you are complete you will call for us."

"Understood." Draco whispered, "my Lord."

Voldemort smirked as his wand pressed painfully into the soft skin of Draco's arm. The boy tried not to cry out as Black Magic burnt itself onto him. The Dark Mark was a faded grey colour when Voldemort pulled his wand away.

"You have not yet proved yourself, boy." In truth, Voldemort didn't want to waste his magic or time branding a servant who was sure to fail. Failure meant death as far as Voldemort was concerned.

Draco bowed again. He had remained kneeling as he was half-marked, but now he pressed his forehead to the floor. He remained like that for the rest of the meeting because Voldemort didn't tell him to stand up, and he was too afraid to get up without being told. At one point he heard someone being dragged into the room. A few seconds later they began screaming but Draco didn't try and look at them. He was terrified that if Voldemort noticed him watching he'd be forced to help torture the man.

Draco might not know his mate was, but he knew they'd be disappointed in him for being a Death Eater.


July 31st 1996.

It was Harry Potter's birthday. Most everybody in the Wizarding World knew this, and most people sent him cards and presents though Harry had never received any of them because Albus Dumbledore preferred not to bombard the boy with his fame or his admirers.

At present, Draco was fast asleep after an eventful day shopping in Diagon Alley. He had run into the Weasleys, Granger and Harry himself. He had also shown his half-mark to Mr Borgin, and he rather hoped no one else had been hiding in the bookshop at the time. When Harry had been in the robe shop with him, his arm had just suddenly flared up, throbbing and burning as if he were being called. But he wasn't. He knew he wasn't. The mark turned a darker shade of black when you were being called, and it felt like your arm was about to drop off. It didn't hurt that much when Harry was around, but it was uncomfortable. A bit like his back. When he had brushed past Harry on his way out of the shop his back had started tingling again, like it had done during his inheritance.

It was disconcerting, so Draco tried to pay it no mind.

As Draco slept, his mate came to him. It wasn't his actual mate of course, but he still dreamed of the blurry figure with jet hair and piercing green eyes. He wasn't wearing his glasses this time, and he seemed to be squinting at Draco.

"I can't believe you did that." He was looking at the half-mark that was easily seen, as Draco wasn't wearing a shirt.

"What was I supposed to do?" He wished he had wings so he could wrap them around himself comfortingly. Either that, or he wished his mate would take him into his arms instead. Harry didn't speak. "Who are you? Please tell me; I need you."

"I can't. I don't even know I'm your mate, remember? You're dreaming." Harry smiled, brushing his fringe away from his forehead.

Draco squinted. There was something there, on his mate's forehead. A mark of some kind: a tattoo? A scar? He stepped closer, but Harry dropped his fringe and hid his scar again. "It won't be that easy." Harry repeated just as Draco woke up.

He rubbed his forehead, frowning at the throbbing pain just above his right eyebrow. He traced the pain with his little finger. It throbbed in a certain pattern, as if someone had drawn something on his forehead with a knife. It was in the shape of a lightening bolt. "Bugger that," he muttered as he rolled over and went back to sleep. He had a mate to find; he didn't have time to be thinking about Harry Scar-Head Potter.


September 2nd 1996.

Harry's whole face throbbed, even after Madame Pomfrey had healed his nose. He had gone to bed, on the first night back at Hogwarts, cursing the existence of Draco Malfoy. He couldn't believe the boy had stomped on his face and broken his nose. Then Malfoy had the audacity to leave him on the train, under an invisibility cloak, and try and send him back to Platform 9 and ¾. It was unbelievable. He was infinitely glad that Tonks had found him.

He shifted in the bed, trying not to lie on his stomach because it made his face touch the pillow and that hurt. He was asleep and had been since he lay down. Even as he dreamt he could hear Ron's snoring from the bed beside his.

He didn't know where he was. Only that when he fell asleep he woke up here. He knew, intellectually, that he was dreaming, but it had worried him for a moment. He had thought that maybe Voldemort had portkeyed him out of Hogwarts again. If that was the case, then he'd been kidnapped, and was now stuck in the company of Draco Malfoy. Well, he thought that until he realized that Malfoy had wings. It couldn't be anything but a dream now.

"What do you want Malfoy?" He sneered and fingered his wand.

Draco merely smiled at him. The smile made his entire face brighten and Harry felt his heart catch in his chest. "I've missed you." Draco whispered as he walked towards Harry with his arms held out.

Harry took Draco's hands, and Draco pulled Harry closer. He wrapped his arms around Harry's neck and smiled again. "Kiss me, Harry." There was nothing Harry could do to stop himself. He felt as it someone had placed their hand on the back of his head and forced his face down until his lips met Draco's. The kiss seemed to go on forever, and Harry's traitorous mind decided he liked it much more than the kiss he shared with Cho Chang.

Draco suddenly pulled back with a scream. His grey eyes were wide with fear as some sort of black fog wrapped itself around his wings, pinning them to his back. Harry looked around, trying to find the source of the fog before realizing it came from him. The fog was leaving his scar, which had split open without him noticing. It was choking Draco now, covering him entirely so all that Harry could see was those terrified eyes. Harry didn't move to help him; he was much too shocked. By the time he had snapped out of his daze, the fog and Draco were gone. In Draco's place was the sixteen-year-old Tom Riddle, with a lightening bolt scar on his forehead.

"Harry Birthday, Harry." He hissed in Parseltongue.

Harry jerked awake with a gasp, reaching up to rub at his throbbing nose before realizing it was his forehead that hurt. His hand came back bloody. "Fucking Malfoy," he muttered as he reached for a tissue.

"Wha's that mate?" Ron slurred, still half asleep.

"Nothing." Harry called back, cleaning his face. He lay back, trying not to think about Draco with wings, or Tom Riddle, or kissing. Unfortunately, he still spent the rest of the night dreaming about kissing Draco Malfoy, who had wings.


June 5th 1997.

It had been a whole year since his inheritance, and Draco still hadn't felt his mate's soul calling out to his own. He sometimes wondered if he was being punished for being a bad person. Maybe he had been cruel to his mate – they could have been a Hufflepuff – and the Veela Council were keeping them apart to punish Draco. He rather hoped not, but it was hard to be as optimistic as his mother was about all of this. After all, his mother was already mated to his father. Draco was the one all alone.

It didn't matter anyway. They were leaving Hogwarts soon, but fortunately he had finished fixing the Vanishing Cabinet earlier that day. He'd call the Death Eaters tonight.

He was patrolling the halls, as was a part of his Prefect duty. He took particular pleasure in breaking up romantic moments between couples. Feel free to call him bitter. At present he had just happened upon the youngest Weasley with another boy. He had caught her four times this term alone; mostly with that Mudblood Gryffindor boy. Thomas something, or was his surname Thomas?

But this boy wasn't Thomas. He was white, for one, and his hair was a lot messier. Draco sneaked closer, and nearly gasped. Ginny Weasley was snogging Harry! His Harry. He shook his head, dispelling that thought. Harry wasn't his. Harry was nothing to him.

He suddenly felt as if someone had punched him again, and had to lean against the wall to stop himself from falling down. "Twenty points from Gryffindor for sickly displays of affection." He drawled, quite successfully masking the pain he felt at watching them together.

Draco's eyes narrowed as Harry met his gaze defiantly. Harry pushed Ginny off of him; she pouted and glared at the blond. Draco tried not to flinch at the look Harry was giving him. It was as if he was some sort of insect that wasn't worth Harry's attention, and he felt like crying when Harry didn't respond verbally and instead turned to face the girl.

"Sorry," he said with a soft smile.

"It's ok. I'll see you tonight?" She asked and Draco bite his tongue to stop himself from interrupting. He wanted to know what Harry would say to the invitation.

"Sorry. The Headmaster and I have to do something tonight." Ginny shrugged, leant up to kiss Harry lightly on the lips and then she walked away. Draco felt a growl bubble in his throat but Harry spoke before he could let it out. "What ever issues you have with couples, get over them. Merlin, I wouldn't be surprised if you never find some poor bint to marry you, and you end up all alone."

Draco gasped and backed away slightly. His eyes were wide and tears welled in them as he thought about what Harry said. His Harry thought he deserved to be alone forever. Maybe that was why he didn't have a mate? He sniffed and rubbed his nose with his sleeve. He tried to compose himself, but realized he was failing at it. So instead he turned and ran away. Harry watched him go, and for the first time ever after one of their fights, he felt like the bad guy. His heart actually hurt as he heard Draco crying as he ran away.


August 1997.

He had stayed for his birthday, and he had stayed for Bill and Fleur's wedding. But he couldn't stay any longer. He had to go find the rest of those Horcruxes. The sooner he found them all and destroyed them the sooner he could kill Voldemort.

And then he could keep his promise to Ginny.

Ginny was waiting for him to come back so they could be together. He smiled as Ron and Hermione came up behind him. Both of them were packed and ready to go. He thought about the kisses he shared with Ginny and the way her hand felt in his as he held her during Dumbledore's funeral.

Later that night, as they lay down to sleep, Harry closed to his eyes and tried to remember the last kiss he had with Ginny. But instead of seeing a red headed girl, he watched himself kiss a blond boy with wings.

He enjoyed that kiss a lot more than Ginny's or Cho's. Even though the thought should have made him feel horrified or disgusted, it didn't. Instead, it brought him a sense of peace, and Harry had the best nights rest that night than he had had all year. When he woke, he didn't think of either Ginny or Draco. Instead he focused entirely on the Horcruxes. He needed to find the Horcruxes so he could defeat Voldemort. And then he could go home to whoever was waiting for him.

A part of his heart told him it wouldn't be Ginny.


I hope you enjoyed… Please leave a review and stick around for the next chapter.

I'll do BROTHERS 3 next. Promise.