You Want Me
Summary: Draco Malfoy's a Veela and Harry Potter is his mate, though he chooses not to accept this. The problem is Harry knows too much for his own good and isn't so innocent anymore.
Rating: PG-13 for the general chapters, but it WILL turn into NC-17 by Chapter 7 or 8 for smutty boy-on-boy loveliness.
Disclaimer: Anything you recognize isn't mine, though I wish it were. If I were J.K Rowling...lets just say that the sixth and seventh books would be...just a little, a *tad*, bit...massively different in favour of a certain shipping! hehe *runs off and giggles with a vivid imagination*
A/N: Hello all, I really do hope you enjoy this next one because I certainly will! I know it's another Draco!Veela fiction, but in my opinion there can never be enough of those! =D Please read, REVIEW, and enjoy! It starts off slow because I don't want these boys too ridiculously OOC. Updates will happen every Sunday at least but I wouldn't expect more than 1-2 chapter a week if I were you, I'm attempting to make this fiction good and long! Anticipate 21 chapters. Now enough with my ramblings, pleaseeee enjoy! ^_^
"...He got pretty much anything he wanted in this school. Except when it came to Harry Potter."
It was a cold winter's day at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry; the expansive grounds were topped in heavy falling snow that blanketed the magical castle which was the only thing in sight for quite some distance. The rare few students ventured out that Wednesday morning for a brisk walk to the Owlrey or perhaps just for fresh air, most stayed cooped up inside curled up in front of their Common Room fireplaces.
Draco Malfoy found himself sourly cursing in the mirror. He had been at it for nearly an hour now after he had a nice warm shower to wake-up. Breakfast was to begin in twenty minutes and he still couldn't get it right!
Fuming, he thrusted his hair comb down on the bathroom counter and crossed his arms to stare at his reflection. He was a boy of nearly seventeen years old but he looked much more defined than that. He still had rather pale skin with light piercing grey eyes, his lips were a soft pink and rather thin and drawn out. Draco had grown to be about five-foot-eight which wasn't so bad for his age, but the fact that he was mostly skin and not much muscle made him look strange but nobody else asides from himself seemed to notice much.
Then there was the issue of his hair. Gods he hated his hair at that moment. It was one of those 'bad hair day' issues, and Draco wasn't going to have any of it. He needed to always look absolutely perfect and primmed in front of the entire student body, otherwise he would have to fake sick and play hookie for the day.
"Blasted hair! Thinks it can get away with it, can it?" he scowled angrily at himself, he reached for his wand to attempt to re-cast a flattening charm. For some reason his platinum, silken hair that usually fell down perfectly to his pointed chin and that he would tuck behind his ears, decided to stick straight upwards and outwards that day.
After re-casting a few more spells and dragging the comb through his hair and adding numerous balms, Draco deemed that he looked acceptable though not his best. As he emerged from the Boys bathroom in the Slytherin dungeons, all female and some male eyes followed him. Ignoring them he went to his Sixth Year Boys dormitory to collect his school books for his first couple of periods, when he entered he caught sight of Gregory Goyle shirtless and immediately felt like retching.
"Goyle, put some bleeding clothes on before my eyes decide to runaway!" Draco snapped as he walked over to his perfectly made bed, ignoring the other boys uncaring grunt.
"Heard you cursing at the mirror again, Malfoy," Blaise Zabini drawled from his bed, he was fully dressed, ready and lying ontop of it and perched on one of his elbows, fingering his thick black hair as he stared coolly at Draco who snatched up his school bag. It was a dark brown leather shoulder strap bag with the Malfoy crest as a silver buckle.
"Shove off Zabini, it's not a sin to take pride in the way one looks," Draco retorted and began to start off towards the dormitory door.
"Hey! Aren't you going to wait for us?" Crabbe asked from his own sleeping area, he was pulling on his shoes at the moment and stumbling around like an utter fool.
Draco raised an eyebrow at him as he brushed a few strands of his blonde hair that fell in front of his eyes, "The Prince doesn't wait for anybody," Blaise cheekily said, recieving another Malfoy-signature-scowl.
"Hurry up you poofs," Draco said, leaning against the doorway of the dormitory. Just then somebody flung it open, sending him into an odd sort of dance to keep him balanced on his feet as his arms flailed momentarily. Once he collected himself and shot a glare at Crabbe and Goyle, who were dumbly snickering at him, he turned to see who was standing in the doorway.
Pansy Parkinson still looked like a pug after all these years with her rounded face and those boring eyes, her hair was flat and utterly a wretched brown colour. It was almost as bad as Hermione Granger's, dare Malfoy think that. "Did you ever think to knock before you come barging into a dormitory you are not permitted to be in?" Draco sneered.
"Breakfast is about to start, Draco dearest," Pansy purred as Draco rolled his eyes and took a few steps back from her to avoid any physical contact she had in mind, "I know you hate being late so I wanted to make sure you boys were up and about," she smiled around at everybody else in the room. "Morning, boys!"
"G'morning Pans," "Morning Pansy," "Parkinson," the last cool comment came from Blaise who finally pulled himself off of his bed and grabbed his school bag. Crabbe and Goyle were finally ready and they all looked expectantly at Draco.
"What?" he asked them snappily.
"Well, you do always lead the way Mister Prat-Prince," Blaise teased and Draco rolled his eyes and walked out of the Boys Dormitory and down the stairs into the Slytherin Common Room, trying his best to ignore the others that followed robotically behind him.
This is what it had always been like. There was a certain routine life in Slytherin territory, and Draco seemed to always be the one leading it. He had no idea why, but ever since First Year that was the way it had been and it's not like he had much of a problem with it because that meant he got pretty much anything he wanted in this school. Except when it came to Harry Potter and his little Gryffindork mates. Draco shook off the thought as soon as it came into his head.
He didn't mind the insults him and the other Slytherin's would bat at one another, it was just in their general nature. A lot of people thought they were cruel to the other students, but what anybody-who-wasn't-a-Slytherin didn't understand was that even though they seemed favourable to one another, they were really just as cruel if not moreso. It added a certain zest to life at Hogwarts, to say the least.
"Porridge? I hate porridge," Draco muttered as he shoved his spoon in his breakfast, they had all arrived and sat in their usual spots. Crabbe on one side of him, Blaise across from him and Pansy reluctantly on his other side. Theodore Nott would eventually show up at one point, but he was always much later and more detatched from the rest of the Slytherins in his year, preferring to keep his own personal company.
"So...are you excited for tomorrow?" Pansy asked a little ways into breakfast as more students began to pile into the Great Hall, stomachs grumbling.
"I can only wonder what Mother's gotten me this year," Draco drawled, but he seemed still rather put-off. He didn't really know whether or not he really was excited for tomorrow.
It was going to be his Seventeenth birthday. His thoroughly awaited Coming of Age...but he didn't really comprehend how important that would be to him until the past summer. His Father had sat him down in his study to have a conversation about quite a few important, detailed things. Lucius Malfoy had just been granted a pardon, save that he make an Unbreakable Vow to never serve the Dark Lord again. This Unbreakable Vow was made between Lucius and Albus Dumbledore, which made the pact even more seamless.
At first, Malfoy Senior quite detested to this for fear of his own family's well-being, but it seemed as though the Dark Lord was more than understanding...for he did not call on Lucius nor did he attack him, it seemed as though he had simply forgotten his right-hand man existed. This was fine with Draco and Narcissa, neither had been fond of the War and were quite glad to be in the shades of grey in between it all, not taking sides anymore and dealing with their own Noble status' instead. They were still a widely feared and respected family.
The second thing Lucius had to confess to Draco, was about the Malfoy lineage. It turned out that Narcissa and Lucius were not just naturally exceptionally beautiful looking people, especially for their age, but because of a certain gene they both held in their blood. They were both half-Veela's, making them age slowly and remain beautiful through-out the term of their physical lives. They had natural powers of attraction and a slight amount of extra magical aura added to their core, making their magic stronger than the regular witch or wizard. But they were only half-Veelas, they did not have a mate or any other circumstancial qualities.
Both of their genes combined in Draco and created a dominant Veela gene that would awaken upon his inheritance, which would be his seventeenth birthday. This shocked Draco more than he could explain, for he knew exactly what that meant. Veela were a strong magical creature that could be extraordinarily beautiful so they could intoxicate their prey and then once they lured them in, they would become vicious animals. Draco didn't want himself to become something so wild and untamed, he couldn't bear to think it of his refined self. He had spent so many years building his solid reputation, he didn't want one Coming of Age birthday to ruin it all.
Though, he couldn't deny he would love to see how much prettier he could get as more than half of the student body already drooled over him. Witch Weekly named him one of the top five Bachelors of the year, next to Harry Potter of course - but that had nothing to do with his looks, or so Draco convinced himself. There was also the problem of his full magical inheritance, he didn't mind whatsoever because this only meant casting spells and hexes would be much less of a burden on his core.
The down side to being a full fledged Veela was the fact that Draco must take a mate. It was worse when he found out he couldn't even choose his mate, but it was a natural selection that occurs due to ones inner most deepest feelings. At first he had whined and complained, because that meant it could be absolutely anybody at Hogwarts or Durmstrang or Beauxbatons...or even a, dare he say it, Muggle! Then his Mother and Father explained to him that Veela could not choose their mate because there was too big of a possibility of both of them going insane and killing one another after the mating ritual was complete during mating season. The Veela and his mate had to be physically attached for many days afterwards or else the Veela would die, the mate soon following afterwards.
Even after they become used to being apart, they cannot last more than a day or two before going insane and losing the will to live. Therefore a Veela's mate is chosen without his or her recognition to accomdate their inner feelings that they might not even know they have, and it also finds the most compatible person. Draco just had to cross his fingers and hope to Merlin it was a pureblooded Slytherin bloke...he had figured out at least a year ago, thanks to Padma Patil, that he was most detested with the thought of anything sexual with a female.
This bit of news didn't come as a surprise to anybody, as Draco had begun shaking up with boys for one night stands, but Pansy still didn't seem to catch the memo.
"Ouch! What the bloody hell was that for?" Draco hissed, rubbing the side of his ribs where Crabbe had just elbowed him harshly.
"You dropped porridge on your shirt and I don't think you'd have liked to gone to Transfiguration like that," mumbled the larger boy with a small shrug before returning to barrelling his own breakfast in his mouth.
"I have known you for the better part of my life, Crabbe, and it amazes me that you still have yet to learn to chew with your mouth closed. I feel somewhat disappointed in myself," Draco drawled before leaning his elbow on the table and scanning the now full Great Hall.
Looking towards the entrance doors, he saw the Golden Gryffindor Trio striding in. Granger, her bushy-hair bouncing, seemed to be lecturing the two boys flanked at her sides. Ron was flushing furiously and fumbling with his cloak buttons as Harry was merely staring blankly at his feet, his eyes were round and empty beneath his glasses and he was frowning slightly. When the three sat in their usual spots, Harry kept on going without even realizing the other two had sat, and was quickly pulled down by Hermione who was still rambling on. Harry looked so dejected. So...sad.
'He's been like that all year. Does he think he is too good for us here at Hogwarts or something? What the bloody hell is wrong with him?' Draco wondered to himself. His feelings for Harry Potter had always been strange ones. At first it was hatred and jealousy for being turned down during First Year, and then it was envy for all of his attention. The envy soon turned into a somewhat joyous, vicious game for Draco when he noticed over the years that no matter the mood of that certain bespectacled Gryffindor, he was the only one that could get deep under his skin - even if it was in a bad way.
Draco didn't hate Harry Potter. Hate was a very strong word. He certainly didn't like him because, well, he simply didn't know the boy. All that the blonde knew was that he was a Slytherin and Gryffindor's were the enemy, even if it was playful school rivalries he enjoyed it the best he could. But hate...he could never find himself truly hating Potter, no matter how much he convinced his fellow classmates.
But the attitude of the raven-haired teenager since term started in September simply befuddled Draco. The blonde had stopped his rapid insults, on pure respect for the fact that Harry always seemed too distracted to even notice them. To even notice Draco whatsoever, or any other Slytherin. The-Boy-Who-Lived barely even noticed his two best friends, or that unnerving Weaselette who was always trying to get his attention in the most ghastly of ways.
The Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, Remus Lupin, seemed to pay special attention to Potter during classes. He tip-toed around him and whispered questions of concern during work periods. It was actions like that that really got Draco wondering what was wrong.
Draco had been staring at Harry the entire time he thought this and suddenly he was aware that Harry was staring back at him with a confused expression, his brows furrowed underneath his hideous round, broken glasses. Draco blushed and looked back down at his breakfast, ashamed and embarassed that he was caught staring at Potter.
'Wait...why am I blushing?' Draco scolded himself and shook it off easily, his mask sliding into place.
"You would think Potter to have developed a sense of fashion by now. Those glasses are an insult to his eyes," Draco scowled without thinking about what he had just said. Now he had most of the Slytherin's around him gawking.
"An insult to his...eyes?" Blaise asked with a cocked eyebrow, Draco shot him an icy glare.
"To everybody's eyes! They're just an insult. Simply atrocious," Draco huffed, crossing his arms and throwing a quick glare over at the Gryffindor Table for good measure.
"Riiight then..." Blaise trailed off rolling his eyes.
"Why do you always have to bring up Potter?" Goyle asked.
"I do not always bring him up," Draco quickly responded.
"Yes you do, at least three times a day!" Pansy piped in from beside him, "It's a bit annoying, really. You'd think you were in love with him if you didn't hate him so much,"
"I-I..." Draco stopped himself and merely scowled at the pug beside him, saying that he didn't hate Potter would have given them all the idea that he really was in love with him. "I was merely commenting on somebody's lack of fashion sense. Like you, Parkinson. A navy blue headband with that Slytherin green kilt? Could you get any less coordinated, or did you let the dust bunnies dress you today?" Draco sneered, grateful when he heard the other boys chortle at Pansy's tight-lipped flushed face.
"Could you get anymore of a pounce, Malfoy?" Blaise drawled with a hint of playfulness in his brown eyes.
"...would you like to know how much of a pounce I can be?" Draco smiled breath-takingly at Blaise who had to take a deep breath to collect himself. Draco Malfoy was well known for his looks and seductive behaviour, and whenever there was the off chance you found him smiling at you, you could fall in love in a heartbeat.
"Enough you two, gods it's not even nine thirty and you're on with this codswallop!" Crabbe said, shaking his head. Draco and Blaise chuckled lowly together before the Slytherin's finished thier breakfast in silence.
It was a rather uneventful day for Draco, but his mind couldn't help but keep wandering back to the next coming day. He stayed up as late as possible, finishing any and all assignments he had at hand. The longer he waited to sleep, the longer the dreams would stay away. For when the clock struck midnight, not only would Draco's body change, but so would his dreams. They were to be filled with images, colours, or sensations that would lead the Veela to his mate in a sort of sense. It was almost an instinctual thing that happened to Veela.
Draco knew it was imperative he find his mate as soon as possible, for if Veela didn't mate by the time they went through their first mating season, then he would lose the will to live and curl up in a corner to die. This scenrio didn't seem too prosperous or productive to Draco so he would have none of it. Finally, five minutes before midnight, Draco crawled reluctantly into bed and closed the hangings to lock them shut, he didn't want to risk being found in the morning without putting Glamours on first in case the changes were absolutely hideous, which was highly doubtful consdering the nature of his inheritance.
And as Draco slowly drifted off into sleep, curled underneath his covers, the only thing that became coherent to him was...Emerald.