Disclaimer: Nothing you recognize or think you might recognize is mine.
Warning: Veela plot is popular and I wasn't going to write one, but while I had writer's block on my other fiction, this plot came into my head and wouldn't leave. So finally I started writing. I have read a lot of veela fics so if anyone spots a motiff that seems disctinctly like one from someone else, I apologize ahead of time and will of course give them credit.
So, this is veela, AU, and slash. HP/DM. And has some mature content. If it's not your thing then point your mouse to the little back arrow...okay, now click the back arrow.
That said enjoy...
It was the morning after the fateful night. And a couple hours after Petunia Dursley's scream was heard around the neighborhood, and anyone peaking outside their' blinds would have seen her clad in a pink robe and rollers, holding the morning paper, while screaming in terror at a basket lying at her door. After that came the wail of a baby, scared out of his sleep, hungry and with a very wet diaper to boot.
Hours later Harry Potter was still laying in the same basket, in the same wet diaper, and still hungry, while his Aunt and Uncle tried to figure out a solution to the child of her freak sister. The letter didn't make much sense to Petunia, and part of her realized that it must be shock, that or an awfully bad joke. Lily was the one who could get out of any situation she put herself into, so she couldn't be dead. There were simply too many birthday's remaining not to send her presents, and too many Christmas' where Petunia made a point not to send her sister a card. So by reason, her sister could simply not be dead.
Moreover, she could never raise the child. It simply could not be done. Petunia had her Dudley to worry about. With an inspiration, that left her husband standing in the room with no one listening to his rant about unfit parents and the crackpots of the world, Petunia raced upstairs to get the one thing that might actually solve her problem. Lily had given it to Petunia over a year ago, and at first she had thought about tearing it up in Lily's face, however she hadn't. Thank heaven for that now. Petunia had put the list of people and numbers in her drawer without telling Vernon that Lily had ever paid a visit. Lily had told her to keep it just in case Petunia needed to contact someone for some reason. The baby downstairs was enough reason to break her vow never to touch it.
Part of her wondered if Lily knew this day might come. Looking down at the paper she saw the list was over a dozen long, and she had no idea which person to call. The third down though struck Petunia as familiar. Anna Kyler. Lily had brought her home for a visit one year, a small quiet girl with an Italian accent. She remembered because it was the first person Lily brought home that didn't seem to be a freak right from the get go. She wasn't loud or outlandish. Polite. Yes she had been polite. For a freak anyway.
She had no idea if the phone number would work or if it was a phone number since there seemed to be less digits but she called the number and thanked the God above when it rang and a male voice answered the phone. She hastily explained what had happened and told who ever it was that she had a baby in her house that she didn't want. Did they know anyone who would want him? Or any freak people orphanages that would take him? The man hastily told her to calm down…and little too firmly to Petunia's thinking, and she was about to tell him her opinion, when he said those heavenly words. They would be there in an hour. Then he hung up.
Petunia looked down at the list and realized that she had been trying to call a female, and she had no idea what the man's name was. Had she called the wrong number? She really had no idea, but for some reason all she could think was that the boy would be gone and out of her life. And so would the last remnants of her sister. With that thought suddenly weighing her down she sat on the bed as tears rained out. She hated her sister, but she was gone. Petunia had long ago thrown out the last of Lily's pictures and any memento of her, but she never considered that her sister would be gone any time soon. And now she was.
It was another half hour before Petunia made her way downstairs, grabbing a clean diaper and wipes from Dudley's room on the way. Vernon was sitting on the couch watching the telly, paying no attention to the screaming baby, other then to turn the telly up another notch every few minutes. Petunia looked down at his green eyes, and saw her sister right there. The baby's eyes were puffy from crying, but he settled down as she changed what she knew would be the first and only diaper she ever changed him out of. Whoever these people were would take him forever. Another freak she reminded herself firmly. They were just taking the last freak out of her life. She was lucky to be rid of him.
Ten minutes later as she watched him sleep in the basket the doorbell rang, and for a moment all was silent. For one moment she wasn't worried that touching him would transfer freak tendencies to herself, for one moment she held him to her chest and whispered apologies that his mother had died and left him all alone. Just as Lily had done to her, Petunia thought.
16 Years Later
He was bored out of his mind. Absolutely going mental he thought to himself. And it wasn't that he didn't like languages, in fact he loved them, but Professor Calder made them boring to the point of falling asleep. It was a required class which Harry didn't understand since he was fluent in all the languages that were part of the curriculum, but what was it Headmaster Trighton had told him? Oh yes, he could help his fellow students while broadening the landscapes and oceans of his mind. He smirked at that one. Some days the headmaster sounded like a book of meditation quotes. Harry was sure he had them written down somewhere, then said some sort of spell to pick one out for the appropriate occasion.
He knew he was a little off today, but he couldn't help it. Sixteen years ago today he had become Harrison James Lucas Kyler. He was called Kyler or Harry depending on if he was in trouble and who was saying it. He knew the anniversary didn't mean anything, and his mom and dad had died when he was six, so it wasn't like he had a great deal more memories of them then he had of Lily and James Potter. Aka his birth parents and his mother's best school friend. A freak accident in the research labs Harry's parents worked in had taken them from him in a blink of an eye. Actually the anniversary of that was coming in a few weeks. Just a pleasant month all together he thought with a smirk. He missed their memories, which were slowly fading from his brain. He was glad for the pensieve he had, but it still was not the same. He wanted to remember every moment he'd had with them. Harry no longer got sad at their memory, hadn't in years. In fact it wasn't the only reason he was off today, and sadly he thought, maybe not even the primary one.
Harry knew what he needed right now; coffee. It was the best drink in the entire world and he went with out his first cup this morning. Caffeine was incredibly needed for this class, but sadly nowhere in sight. Such a pity. It was sad that coffee outweighed his parents' memory this morning. He was going to hex whoever broke the coffee machine outside the classroom. A hex that would be painful he decided..
A paper arrow hit him in the side of the head and out of his thoughts. Looking around, while rubbing the side of his head where the thing had struck, showed no one looking at him or anything out of the ordinary. That hurt. Unwrapping he saw a caricature of himself, Nickolai, and Taylor jumping out of the window while Calder continued his lecture without noticing his pupils finding a painful way out of lecture. He snickered and looked back at his best friend Nickolai who was silently whistling and avoiding Harry's stare. He'd have to remind his friend how much an arrow in the head hurt, maybe he could use his hex on Nick, he thought, suddenly brightened at the idea of getting to hex someone. Even if it wasn't the person responsible for his original bad mood. Harry would have thrown one back but it was the one skill he had never mastered, and no matter how hard he tried or made the folds, his arrows never turned out right or went more then a few inches. Was really pathetic. He was Harry Kyler, top grades all around, able to perform any spell and kick your ass at duels, but folding a piece of paper eluded him. He could use magic but there was certainly no pride in that.
Fifteen minutes late the bell finally rung and the students all filed out of the classroom, Nickolai and their' friend Taylor sweeping up the rear.
"Kyler, I was certain you were falling asleep back there."
"I thought I saw drool coming out of his mouth" remarked Taylor using hand motions to make his point and causing Nickolai to follow suit.
"Not asleep enough not to feel that dagger of an arrow! That hurt!" Harry remarked in a hurtful tone while rubbing where the arrow had hit him.
"Dagger?" Taylor said still unable to control his mirth, "very paper like dagger of course." He made his feelings clear by giving Harry's shoulder a good shove.
The three made their' way down the halls of Crescenzo Academy quickly, ducking a few hexes that two students were sending each other, and made the walk to one of their favorite dining spots.
Crescenzo was an extremely unique Academy. Since it was a year round school there were more accommodations to ensure that student life did not become mundane. There were various places to eat including some coffee houses, and a full restaurant. The headmaster required every student's full efforts, and in return gave the students the same. They were only allowed to go home for two breaks, one being at Christmas and the other at the end of a school term in June. Other than that all students remained living at the school full time, although one day a month field trips were taken to places of "academic interest." Which to Harry and his friends meant a history lesson.
Crescenzo was a large school, with a student population of around eight thousand, hidden away off of the coast of Italy, and an island onto itself. A castle like structure made of white marble, Harry often it thought it looked like the muggle ruins of Rome. The large school population was due to the elongated schools years. First years came in at the age of seven. They did not graduate earlier then most schools either, usually ending when most were eighteen, and Harry admitted he was a little frightened that he only had one year to go. Then he would go out into wizard society and do what Crescenzo students were known for doing…succeeding and making money.
Professors had told Harry that Crescenzo Academy was not a school that other schools readily recognized, since Crescenzo never accepted any interschool games or contact. The students never went into society before graduation so no one famous was ever "known" for being a student at Crescenzo, and because of the early start age not many people outside a students' family even remembered them. The early start age also meant that it was rare for muggleborns to attend, since accidental magic usually happened late in childhood. At least that was what Harry had heard, but he really had no idea. The teachers kept a lid on what influence the outside world had up until graduation.
The application process for possible students was a little mysterious too, and no one really had a good understanding of how it worked. They knew magical ability was a large factor, as was drive to work and succeed. Smaller portions made up family lineage, and what Harry heard headmaster Trighton call "family tree contributions to society." Basically no trust fund babies looking for an easy walk through life. They were here to work their' asses off and then work hard in the real world. Harry looked forward to the day he earned his own wage and could buy what he wanted when he wanted. One more year, that was it.
At lunch Harry and his friends sat down, went over the next month's work that was to be done and split up any projects that needed work.
"Oh what about that Potions assignment? When's due date on that?" Harry asked with his calendar parchment open and quill writing furiously.
"Three weeks. Let's discuss that this weekend?" Nickolai remarked.
"Right-o. And transfig project…I'm thinking something animagus related?" Taylor said and kept writing while Harry and Nikolai both looked up with a smile at each other. By silent communication Nick took this one on.
"Again?...I think we might need something fresh don't you?" Taylor in return scowled.
"Your just being pissy because your animagus is a turtle and Kyler's a stag…..and mine is the very majestic and proud Chimpanzee!!" Taylor looked up an off towards the ceiling as though imagining and admiring his own form. Meanwhile Harry and Nickolai both snorted and started laughing. Harry had tears in his eyes, when another voice broke through.
"Oh lord. Is Tay admiring the Chimp again?" Rose asked as she sauntered up to the booth seats the boys occupied and seeing no room sat on Nickolai, her boyfriend's knee, meanwhile stealing a chip from his plate.
"Yes, and making fun of my Turtle" he said with pout while instead of getting sympathy, Rose also gave a un-lady like snort.
Harry couldn't imagine a more perfect pair then Rose and Nickolai. Girls said Nickolai, and he saw it too, to be one of the hottest things walk. He was the epitome of the gorgeous blonde Russian. Golden hair that was short and spiked, over six feet, and had the gorgeous body and brains to boot. Rose always helped remove Nickolai from the pedestal he sometimes put himself up onto. She wasn't actually beautiful, or even extremely pretty, brown hair that fell in drooping curls to her back and a slightly angular face with brown eyes, but Nickolai adored her. Rose tended to keep her nose in the books, and hadn't really noticed Nickolai until his friend started basically stalking her a year ago. Finally Rose gave in saying that it was either give it a go, or put a restraining order on him.
Of course they could get all lovey like they were doing now and feeding each other chips, thereby making Harry sick to his stomach.
"So Harry," Rose started with a winning smile, "I heard an interesting rumor about you an a certain person we all know…." Harry groaned and put his head on the table not even wanting to address the insanity of Anastasia Boulder.
"No, no, no and no" Harry groaned, each time punctuating the word with his head hitting the table.
Rose merely chuckled and chose another chip. "You know Harry we need to get you out there. I know you don't see it but you're on everyone's hit list both girls… and guys" she said with a wiggle of her eyebrows.
Harry looked up and gave her a look that would scorch a lesser person; in fact it had at some points. He then tried a different tactic and looked beseechingly towards his best friend, who laughed then relented.
"Alright sweetheart. I think you've done enough damage for today. Let me walk you to charms"
With that Harry thanked the gods above that Nickolai took his nosey wonderful girlfriend off.
"Oh come on Nick I barely said anything!"
"Rose, honey, I love you…but leave Harrison Kyler alone!" When he saw she wasn't buying it he started the puppy looks, which didn't seem to work either.
"But Anastasia is driving me up the wall, and so are most of the female and male population! The man is hot" and at her boyfriends sharp look she snorted and continued on. "You know what I mean! If I have to hear about his eyes, or body, or the size of his feet one more time I'm going to go mad! Hexing them doesn't I anymore I tell you. I'm going mad!"
"Feet?" Nickolai asked uncomprehending. Rose simply smiled, looked south at his slacks' zipper and Nickolai actually blushed. God, he can be adorable, Rose thought.
"Alright I'll relent but its been six months since his break up, and I think its time he get back in the saddle. Well actually I don't really care, but the rest of the school seems too."
Nickolai sighed not really wanting to get into the fact that Harry had actually been hurt by his girlfriend's betrayal, and had sworn off relationships till dooms day. As for the boys part….well it was a boarding school…people experimented. Kyler and he had left discussing that aspect of their lives firmly behind closed doors for now, but he was rethinking that move now. Besides kyler was sworn off relationships no matter what sex the person was.
Soon they arrived at Rose's classroom and since Nick had been quiet for most the walk she assumed he was in a pout and started to walk in.
Only to hear a sharp "Yeah right" and to have herself pulled back right into his arms. Nickolai took possession of her mouth quickly, with his hand behind her neck keeping her still and exactly where he wanted her, and kissing her thoroughly. His tongue sweeping in and lazily stroked hers in the way he knew drove her crazy. He was rewarded almost immediately with a deep moan from her, and went immediately hard at the sound. She always managed to do that, and tonight he decided would be a good night for him…and his feet. A good minute later Rose walked into her classroom dazed and breathless, thinking what a shame that restraining order would have been, and Nickolai turned and walked a way with a self satisfied smiled on his face.
That night Harry laid in bed, while his roommate was off probably getting shagged, and he looked through the box of mementos that he looked at every year. The pictures of his mom and dad were great. Anna and Lucas had been great parents, stepped up to the role when they got the call from his Aunt that they didn't want him. And he was actually thankful to them. Harry had visited and watched his Aunt and Uncle one day from a far, and knew instinctively that he would have been absolutely miserable there. At least his Aunt had the good sense to call his mom and dad. They of course didn't tell anyone that they had adopted the Potter's son. They were just moving back to Italy from London, hence his slight Italian accent did the adoption and pretended they bore him. It helped that Harry had the same features as his dad. Black hair, although his was unmanageable, tall and broad shouldered with green eyes. Just like his dad had been.
His parents had told him the truth when he was very young. Harry's mom did all the research on his scar and even gained contacts into the ministry and found out about the prophecy. She had loved research and puzzles. Anna never wanted him to go into anything without knowing the facts. He even knew that Dumbledore had been looking for him, but to be honest he didn't care. His mom had thought the man was generally a good person but could be rather manipulative. Anna had wanted Harry to choose his own destiny, and he chose it here. What happened in Great Britain was on no concern to him, hell he wasn't even a citizen there anymore. Harry was legally a citizen of Italy, and no one ever questioned it either. He made sure he spent time in the sun so his skin had a darker tan look, and with his dark locks no one ever suspected he was English.
Harry was certain as well that the time was coming when something would be bringing him back to Britain though. It was just that little nagging feeling in the back of his brain that said he wasn't done with that whole Lord Voldemort thing, pity though it may be. He did know that at least whatever happened in the next few years, and whatever trouble he started getting into, the Academy had trained him for everything. Headmaster Trighton made sure he offered Harry extra classes to prepare him for whatever the world started throwing out.
He just wished at some points that his mom and dad were there to guide him. He missed them, or missed the idea of them. They had never been rich, but comfortable and the money left would just get Harry through the end of school, and then he would start the task of building a life for himself. He had been an only child of only children, and had no family left. Suddenly he realized how exhausted he was and feel asleep with the last photograph of his parents clutched to his chest.
Draco woke up with a start and cold sweat dripping on him. Damnit, damnit was all he could think. Again and again and it was getting him nowhere. Each dream took him closer yet farther away. He stood up in his bedroom at Malfoy manor deciding that even at six am he wasn't going to get anymore sleep. He never did after one of the dreams.
He absolutely was sick of being part Veela in the moment. Damned heritage. He had known about it since he was young, and his parents loved telling him the story about how they found each other. Had never met before…the smell…blah blah blah happily ever after. Why they hell couldn't he find his own damned mate! Not that he didn't love his parents but this was just getting ridiculous. He had been searching for a bloody damned year, for one single person. When he found out exactly what the muggle phrase "needle in a haystack" meant he decided it was apt and used it all the time now. Come to think of it even his mates used it now.
Draco walked into his bathroom and started the shower telling himself to calm down as well. He would find him. He was getting closer, and getting more clues about where to look, the dreams were frustrating but oddly calming since at least he knew he had a mate out there that was alive and well. Well, ha, yeah until he got his hands on whoever he was and let him known exactly what his opinion of his hiding was. Well that and he was going to shag him senseless. Draco hadn't had sex in a year and it was starting to get to him, but no one was appealing, neither male nor female now that he knew "the one" was out there somewhere.
Okay, dream he thought, what did he see? His mate, focus he thought as he let the hot water stream over his head. In one frame of the dream he had heard laughter, heard talking, and felt his mates embarrassment and amusement over something. Accents-- he heard a range of accents. Concentrating all his will on recalling the dream he tried to focus on how the words had been pronounced. One person had a vaguely Russian accent, but he didn't feel that was his mate. No it was the other one, he knew it. It was a light accent almost lyrical but not entirely…almost like…..Blaise. Italian! That was it he thought with satisfaction and slammed his fist against the tiled wall.
It was a very light accent, wonderful voice his mate had, he thought, and he was guessing he could come just listening to that voice. It certainly had him hard enough.
Well at least this dream had provided him with something. Sometimes they didn't, and sometimes he didn't dream at all. It was a trait that had started after Draco had come into his inheritance, and while Draco dreamed he would sometimes hear his mate talking or see images of him. There was a connection, a light one that seemed to allow him to be a third person view in a scene. His father had described it as observing one of those muggle movies, and after seeing one, Draco heartily agreed. Accept this one was a great deal harder to figure out. It was fuzzy, with the scene only coming in partially and the images all scattered. Slowly, he thought the pieces of the puzzle were coming together.
After his shower he took the parchment and quill out of his desk and reviewed the list again, like he did several times a day, hell he even carried copies of it so if an idea struck him during the day he would have the list readily available.
He scanned it a recalled that he had seen the green eyes again. They always seemed to be one of the foremost images in the dreams. Expressive eyes he thought with a smile, and I wonder if they will be as changing during……bad, he thought with a shake of the head. You can go there later when you have him.
Male. Yep, that hadn't changed. It was one of the first things he had realized through the dreams. That his mate was male, and it really didn't bother him. It had given Draco pause at the very beginning but now it didn't matter at all. He had done enough research to know that Veela mating didn't count a persons sex when the higher powers chose a mate. Everything in drive, personality, magic, and soul mattered, but not a person's sex. He also knew that whatever his partner's preference now was, that they were suited so he would want Draco. Hell he was just happy it wasn't a muggle, though never confirmed and not supposed to happen, he had heard legends about. True or folklore he didn't want to find out.
That led him onto that his mate always seemed to have some of the same people around him. He would either hear them, sense their' energy, know his mate was talking to them, or something. Was again like a movie where even if you put your hand over the telly and covered up an actor, you still knew by other clues that they were in the scene. So that led to the idea of him being at a school.
He and his parents had checked every bloody school out there!! Everything in Brittan and Europe had been scoured except for the small tiny schools, which he guessed he would now have to start looking into. He had even gone to America. He had shivered at the thought of his mate being a Yank, even though he really didn't care that much nationally, he just had no intention of ever living there. Maybe they needed to start looking in Asia. Hogwarts had transfer students so maybe his mate was a transfer somewhere. Very possible since one of his friends seemed to have a Russian accent.
He concentrated again on the other scene, but it wasn't really a scene, was more like feelings that he knew his mate was having. He was worried about something again, and again Draco couldn't figure out what. He wrote down the ideas religiously of what it could be, as it would be the first thing he would solve when he met his mate.
Draco's mate was not allowed to worry about anything. Absolutely anything. He was going to take care of him for the rest of their' lives and whatever was upsetting him would be taken care of, especially if it was another person upsetting him. What if it was a boyfriend or girlfriend?
No, he scowled; he would not allow that thought to enter his mind. But he did write it down anyway. Looking he saw that the rest of the list gave very few answers. Draco had heard talk of various subjects a few times; the usual charms, potions, transfiguration.
And wrote down what he could see of the surroundings but it was never much in his dream. Everything was pretty foggy but for a bit of grass or a chair here and there.
Suddenly he realized that he was really no closer then he was last night and growled, taking a few minutes to get his magic under control, and decided he needed a good run. Never mind that he just took a shower, he needed this excess energy gone. Damn, he just needed his mate.