This was Lady Serpentina's FIC CHALLENGE criteria to me:

1) A possessive Veela Scorpius.
2) Post Hogwarts - to make the challenge more interesting. How they meet each other again is up to you.
3) This fic has to be rated mature. I love your smutty graphic scenes!

4) Rose's parents are divorced - Sorry I can't stand Hermione and Ron together.
5) A possibility between Dramione - come on, their kids aren't even blood related.
6) An innocent kiss
7) "Merlin's hairy balls," phrase is to be mentioned at least four times.
8) A revealing dream about the future.
9) Rose gets bitten in three different places due to Scorpius' courting-veela standards

10) If Rose is Scorpius' mate, then you know what that means... Rose can't fall easily for Scorpius' Malfoy charms, she can respond to his "accidental" physical touches, but she'd be against it till she is convinced Scorpius is what she wants and needs - she's to be stubborn and deny everything that's changing her perfectly planned life, this is Hermione's daughter after all. Scorpius must convince her he's what she needs. How long the story is, is up to you. :)

This will be a multi-chapter fic, filled with romance, comedy, drama, sexual naughtiness, and angst galore! Hope you enjoy the ride, dear readers!

Revision 1.0 – 10 June, 2010

Revision 2.0 – begun December, 2014

DISCLAIMER:"Harry Potter" is the property of J.K. Rowling and Warner Bros. This fanfiction was written entirely for fun, not for profit, and no copyright infringement is intended.

TIMELINE: Begins June 2031 (NextGen - Post-Hogwarts, Epilogue compliant)

MAIN CAST OF CHARACTERS: Scorpius Malfoy x Rose Weasley, Hermione Granger (formerly Weasley) x Draco Malfoy

SECONDARY CAST OF CHARACTERS (in alphabetical order, by last name): Dominique Delacour (formerly Weasley), Astoria (Greengrass) Malfoy, Lucius Malfoy, Narcissa Malfoy, Cormac McLaggen, Daphne (Greengrass) McLaggen, Theodore Nott, Lorcan Scamander, Lysander Scamander, Albus Severus Potter, Ginny (Weasley) Potter, Harry Potter, Arthur Weasley, Bill Weasley, Fleur (Delacour) Weasley, Hugo Weasley, Louis Weasley, Molly Weasley II, Lucy Weasley, Ron Weasley, Susan (Bones) Weasley + Original NextGen Characters (Pontus Black, Theodosis Black, Daneetzah, Alicia Longbottom, Corwin McLaggen, Eleri Nott, Holly Finnigan, Shannon Finnigan, Marcus Zabini)

SUMMARY: Scorpius Malfoy comes into his Veela birth heritage at the age of 25, and seeks out his mate, Rose Weasley. But his childhood rival is not so easily tamed! At the same time, Draco Malfoy has decided to take a second mate with the death of his wife, Astoria, and he's waited a long time to have the witch of his dreams. Will divorcee Hermione Granger be amicable to his suit? Resolves are tested and wills clash. Secrets from the past threaten to tear lovers apart. Challengers to the mating get set to interfere. Can these two couples succeed at a second chance at love and break a curse that has haunted the Malfoy men for centuries?

RATING: M+/NC-17 (Explicit heterosexual situations – including masturbation, fingering, oral sex, consensual intercourse, loss of virginity, as well as dub-con & non-consensual sex/rape; Veela mate marking & bonding; Infidelity; Explicit profanity; Violence; Alcohol consumption; Use of Memory Charms and Compulsion Charms; Pregnancy; Secondary Character Death)


For the record, there is exactly 26 years (25 + some number of months) between Lucius Malfoy (born 1954) & Draco Malfoy (born 1980) and between Draco Malfoy (born 1980) & Scorpius Malfoy (born 2006). It's a weird coincidence that I capitalized on for this fic to make it work.

The motorcycle in question in this fic was Sirius Black's, which he willed to Harry in HP canon. I didn't invent it.

Also, please keep in mind that when Scorpius mentions 'Potter' or 'Zabini', he's not talking about Harry Potter or Blaise Zabini, but their children, Albus Severus Potter and Marcus Zabini (an original character for this fic). And remember that when Rose refers to 'Malfoy', she's not talking about Draco, but Scorpius. We're so used to reading the HP world from Harry's generation's POV that it's easy to forget that NextGen would use the same names, but be referring to the children their own age, not the parents of Harry's gen. I just wanted to clarify that as I've received some PMs from readers of revision 1.0 regarding the issue.

IMAGES TO GO ALONG WITH THIS FANFICTION (replace "dot" with "." and remove all spaces to make the URL load properly): s905 DOT photobucket DOT com/albums/ac260/RZZMG/Second%Chances/




Saturday, June 21st, 2031 (night)

This was the worst birthday ever. No presents. No cake. No guests. No fancy party clothes. No riotous celebration with Firewhisky. No bint to suck him off, as had been Scorpius' favorite birthday tradition since he'd reached the age of legal adulthood. Nothing to be considered 'fun' was allowed to mark his turning a quarter-century old today.

What he had been treated to was a bath filled with foul smelling herbs that made him repeatedly sneeze, greasy oils that made his hair slick and limp, and sitting alone for two soul-sucking hours in silence in quickly cooling water, supposedly for meditation purposes. He hadn't even been allowed to wank away his frustrations; his father had expressly forbidden the act, stating it would put a kink in the special ceremony to come later that night.

He was turning a corner tonight, and his life would never be the same.

As he sat on the edge of his bed now, wearing what looked like some sort of homo-erotic toga from out of ancient fucking Greece, Scorpius' prick remained semi-erect because he hadn't taken care of his "little problem" in a few days. He wished to Slytherin that he could have at least been allowed a stiff drink in each hand and a cold towel for the back of his neck! He was so juiced he could kick-start Potter's motorcycle – the one his old man had given him when the guy had turned seventeen.

He'd been dreading today since he'd been ten-years-old, when his father had sat him down and briefly explained his cursed heritage to him. Unfortunately, the cocksucker hadn't told his son any of the important shite – like what being a male Veela actually meant for his future. Now that previously nebulous dread was ballooning into a full-blown, almost tangible panic attack as he imagined all sorts of horrific scenarios behind his eyelids, most of them having to do with developing a fatal allergic reaction to alcohol and pussy after his Transition had completed.

He sighed and cracked open his peepers to check the clock over the mantle. It was just past eleven. Hurry the fuck up, he swore at the timepiece, as if it had the ability to magically respond. I want this over with, one way or the other!

At exactly forty-two past eleven that night, Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy was destined to come into his Veela birthright. His internal beast would fully "awaken" finally, according to his dad, and he would not only go through a physical and magical alteration, but he'd also know from some funky vision-dream he'd experience during the third phase of the change his mate's identity – just as his father had known when it had been his time, and his father before him, and his father before him, ad infinitum.

Hurrah. Like being tied to some vapid shrew with an expensive shoe habit would be the most joyous event of his life.

Gods be damned, he wanted to be anyone but himself right then! Even swapping bodies with his best mate, Marcus Zabini (who Scorpius often razzed as having been hit with the ugly stick one too many times as a child) would be preferable to his fate!

It was all the fault of some long-forgotten ancestor named Theodosis. Because of the guy's amazingly over-inflated sense of importance and merely out of spite, that sodding bastard had ruined their family's station in society and had cursed his entire lineage as a result (like that was something extraordinary for the Malfoys to do). The dark death-and-blood magic that the man's Veela mate had used to curse him to get even for years of his senseless cruelty towards her had resulted in a generational "affliction": every Malfoy heir from Theodosis' son on down would suffer a Veela growing within them and bonding to them upon their twenty-fifth year of life. The curse would not only force them to endure the pain of physically, magically, and emotionally changing to adapt to the Veela's presence, but also of mating a woman in the male Veela tradition. The Malfoy heir would never be free to choose his own witch for wife, like normal wizards, nor would he ever be able to reproduce otherwise. With his mate, he would only ever bear sons, never daughters, and the curse would never be broken until one of the Malfoy line could figure out a way to separate the man from the beast – an impossible feat that had twice been attempted in the history of the family by some truly desperate wizards, and both times had ended in their deaths.

Tonight, Scorpius was going to join that celebrated, horrid tradition, losing out on his well-enjoyed bachelorhood.

Okay, sure, the mate-bonding thing that Veelas had going for them assured that the Malfoy lineage never died out. A plus, right? Ancestral longevity was guaran-fucking-teed – something the family patriarchs were positively thrilled over. Then there was the bonus of the fantastic sex, thanks to the Veela allure. The beautiful, magically-powerful creatures were the incubi of the world, and fucking one's life mate was supposedly the greatest high a man could ever achieve, even more so than imbibing any potion or chewing any mushroom passed through the hands of those half-baked hippie wizarding communes living in mountain caves somewhere in Tibet.

Another wonderful gift of the Veela enchantment was that the male heirs and their wives would live twice the average lifespan of a normal human through the blood-bond of the mating, barring any unnatural calamity such as suicide, fatal accident or murder. The oldest Malfoy on record, Brutus, had made it to one hundred and ninety-years old before his tired body had finally given out.

Yet, despite such wondrous perks there were two critically significant sticking points to the whole deal: First, there was nothing in the fine print of that centuries old magical contract that guaranteed a Malfoy's mate would ever fall in love with him; lust, yes, but love… not necessarily. Hell, it didn't even promise she'd like him enough to want him to make regular visits to her bed. Second, the mating assured neither partner would sexually want anyone else physically until the bond was broken by death. The surviving mate could then take another mate if he or she wished – but had to wait until his next quarter-century milestone to perform the ritual again.

So, basically, if he ended up with an aggro-moose that he despised and who locked him out of her knickers, Scorpius was stuck with the lairy slag until she died – which could be a very long time, if she lived out her natural life at his side. If she died sometime in the interim, he might be able to try his luck a second time – but by then, he might be an old man with a limp dick!

Merlin's hairy balls, he was fucked. He was facing down the green of one giant craps shoot and praying for a seven. What if he made the dog throw and the dice came up snake-eyes, though? That would be just his luck, wouldn't it?

"I hate this. I hate us. I hate this whole fucking thing," he spat at the figure standing a few feet away, feeling rather spiteful at that moment.

His father turned from his purview of the darkened front lawns to stare back at him with sincere regret. At fifty-one years old, Draco Malfoy looked no older than thirty. He was still as attractive now as he had been twenty years ago. His mother, Astoria, would have shared the same fate, had she not died in a tragic Floo accident four months after Scorpius' twelfth birthday.

"I know. All I can say is that I'm sorry, my son," his father replied.

Scorpius snarled. "Right. Grandfather's sorry for ruining our family's reputation by following a madman all those years ago, you're sorry for mum's death, and I'm sorry for ever being born into this godforsaken family. Guess that makes us all even." He barked a laugh. "Oh, but let's not forget good ol', dead-and-free Theodosis – he isn't sorry for getting us into this sausage to start, so he can go frig his ghostly self as far as I'm concerned. Bloody wanker."

A deep, disgusted sigh was expelled from the other resident-in-waiting hanging around his rooms. "Oh, do get over yourself, Scorpius. This is your duty. Every Malfoy male has had to endure the same thing for generations. You're not unique, boy."

Scorpius sneered into the shadows where he knew his grandfather, Lucius, preferred to skulk. "You may be right, but being forced to become a breeding stud for a Veela isn't my idea of a life, especially not for this family."

He knew he'd gone too far, but he also knew neither man in the room would lift a wand or hand to him on this of all nights. It was too important for him to have his vision of the future. He'd pay for it probably tomorrow in a good tongue-lashing from Lucius, though. He could practically see the promise behind his grandfather's narrowed, cold eyes.

"How close are we to this thing happening?" he growled, feeling one big bundle of crackling frustration.

His father reached into his robes and pulled out an ancient pocket watch. "Less than half an hour. You need to finish the prep." He crossed the space and summoned their most trusted house-elf, Barnham, with a simple calling of his name. The elder creature popped into the room, magically hovering in the air around him a pre-arranged pitcher of some sort of liquid and a hand rinsing bowl, as well as small towels and a wooden, rectangular box.

Scorpius had already endured the bathing ritual earlier, and he still felt underdressed and rather vulnerable in this weird one-piece he had been forced to wear. "What's it this time?" he groaned in protest, taking in the new elements floating in the air. "More herbs, scented oils, and girly hair washing on the agenda?"

Draco shook his head and turned to direct the house-elf in placing the accoutrements on a bedside table. When he was done, his father dismissed the elf and waved his wand over the door for privacy. He then dimmed the lights even further, until they were just a glimmer in the near dark. Only the moon shining down from the wide cathedral window over the bed and from the French doors on the other side of the room provided light to see by. His father poured what looked like clear water from the pitcher into the wide-bottomed bowl next to it. He then stepped back and looked over his shoulder to his own father, apparently seeking approval. Lucius nodded, but said nothing.

Scorpius was suddenly very nervy. Warily, he watched and waited.

"Dip your hands in this, Scor," his father bid, indicating the bowl. "For purity's sake."

Stepping forward, Scorpius looked down into the bottom of the clear receptacle and saw an eerie shadow of a reflection in the water. He raised his hands and tipped them into the liquid, immediately feeling a warming effect. He gasped, pulled his hands away, and vigorously shook them to get the water off.

"It won't hurt you," his father promised. "It's only water with some herbs and oils in it, like you guessed."

Reaching for a towel, Scorpius wiped his hands, still feeling the oily residue on his skin; it left his hands silky and soft. He threw the towel down and stepped away, annoyed. "Can we just get this over with already?"

"Lie back in your bed," his father instructed, keeping his distance.

Scorpius complied, but kept a wary eye out on the elder Malfoys. What was going on?

Draco looked once more at his father and tilted his chin, to indicate Lucius should wait outside. With a nod, Scorpius' grandfather left. He knew the old man wouldn't be far, however; he was always slithering around in the shadows.

"Do you want to tell me what the bloody hell I can expect?" Scorpius snarled in annoyance.

His father looked very tired all of the sudden. "If you'd give me the opportunity." He ran well-manicured hands through his long bangs, pushing them off his forehead and sighed. "There are three parts to the Transition. The first is called the 'Manifestation'. Your magical aura and that of the Veela merge, to make you equals sharing one body. You'll gain some abilities and lose others."

"The second is the 'Emergence,' where your physical body is altered. You're remade inside and out. You'll look the same, but you'll be physically tougher, you'll have greater endurance, your cell growth will slow so you won't age at the normal rate, and your immune system will be stronger. This is so you'll be able to protect your mate against all threats during your lives together. You'll also have control of your glands and your other… changed parts… so you can properly mark your mate as Veela do."

"Changed parts?!" Scorpius asked, feeling slightly panicked at the implication. "You'll explain that bit to me later, yeah?"

His father nodded. "No need to fret, son. Male Veela aren't like the females – we don't change into bird-like harpies. We're more like… fallen angels. It's actually rather cool. And yes, I'll answer every question you'll have, just as my father did for me."

Although his father's answer was a relief, somehow it still didn't translate into confidence. Scorpius let it pass, however. He was already agitated and ready to snap. The last thing he needed was to find out the nasty particulars of mating. Later, he'd handle that part later. Right now, he had to focus on just getting through the night. His actual transformation sounded like it was going to suck.

"The final stage of the ritual is the 'Presentation,' where the Veela will give you a vision of your Bond Mate," his father continued his explanation. "This is called 'opening your Third Eye.' You'll see her face in the bowl of water, and both be able to feel and scent her magic in the air. With your enhanced senses, and a firm fix on what she looks like, you'll then be able to find your ideal mate anywhere in the world. You'll use your physical, pheromonal and magically enhanced attributes to bind her to you once you have her." His lips twisted in a mocking smirk. "You'll have to court her with your human charms if you want her to be a willing participant, though. That's not something the Veela has the disposition to accomplish. They're all about breeding, and lack a certain romantic flair."

"Sounds like this is going to be the shites from A to Z," Scorpius stated, a bitter frown on his lips.

His father shrugged. "The third part's not so bad." He pursed his lips, considering his next words with care. "I'm not going to lie, son. The Transition is a very personal experience. Every Veela male undergoes it differently. During the first and second stages, it was very, very painful for me. It was like shards of glass were being shoved directly into my nerves at first, then like I was being torn in two. I begged for death." He shuddered. "My father's experience was entirely different, however. He explained it as feeling like being hooked on powerful potions for drug inhibition and acceleration – like he was flying and falling at the same time and couldn't make the sensation stop until it was over. And his father, Abraxas, was extremely violent and angry. His room was trashed by the time the third stage took him." He shut his eyes. "How you handle your Transition will shape your future, son. It will shape what kind of man you will be for the remainder of your living years. Try to get through it with courage and fortitude."

Scorpius' eyebrows were in his hairline and his pulse sped up. "You're fucking kidding me, right?"

His father shook his head. "I wish I could take this from you, but I can't. This is your personal test of fire, Scor. Everyone has to pass through one at some point in their lives… some of us more than once." That sarcastic, acrimonious smirk was back on Draco's handsome face. "In any case, you need to be prepared for anything during the first and second stages. The third stage–"

Here his father faltered, and heat crept up his cheeks to bloom cherry red against his pale skin. Even in the dim lighting, his father's embarrassment practically glowed. Draco cleared his throat and tried again. "The third stage will require you to, ah, engage in–" He paused again, looking decidedly uncomfortable. "You're going to have to… pleasure yourself." He pointedly looked at the ceramic vessel Scorpius had earlier dipped his hands into. "Into that."

If Scorpius thought he couldn't be any more flabbergasted after the earlier revelations, he was clearly quite mistaken. "You want me to come in a bowl full of noxious smelling stuff? How sanitary can that be? And why the hell for?"

Rolling his eyes and tsk-ing in annoyance, his father crossed to the arrangement in question and poured more of the water from the pitcher into the basin. "You're just going to do it, and you're going to cut yourself with this knife," he withdrew a silver blade from the wooden box brought in with the other items. "Over the pad of your left thumb. You'll let three drops of your blood fall into the mix, and then you're then going to swirl it all together with your cut hand, open up your Third Eye, and see the vision of your mate in here. The mating magic requires your blood, your seed, and your magical energy as a sacrifice to work. If you botch it up, you'll be unable to find her." He turned very grave then, his features a grim mask. "A mate is the greatest joy you will ever know, my son. It's a terrible thing to lose her – even if it's just losing the chance of finding her. Don't ruin this opportunity. Take it seriously."

A heavy pressure suddenly settled in Scorpius' chest, leaving him feeling very vulnerable, like he was twelve all over again and being called out of class to be told his mother had died. "What if she's all wrong for me, dad? What if she's a horrible person? I don't want to get stuck in a bad marriage."

A rare, small smile graced his father's perfectly sculpted lips. "The magic will pick the best match for your character. It knows who is right for you. It's never wrong, even if it seems it at first."

Scorpius swallowed his pride to ask the one question he'd always been afraid to after his mother's funeral. "Was mum your perfect match?"

Draco chuckled. "She was exactly the woman I needed then, although at first, I couldn't stand to be around her. I thought she was the typical pure-blood princess – shallow, vain. You know the type."

Scorpius nodded. He, too, couldn't stand most of the women in his social class, as all they tended to consider important were shopping trips, parties, and gossip.

"Our courtship was slower than normal, because neither of us wanted to be tied to the other. It was three months before I bound her to me," his father continued. "Mostly it was the mating magic and my Veela forcing both of our hands to finish it. I'm ashamed to say that you weren't conceived with romance in mind, son. During the pregnancy, though, that's when I saw what kind of woman she really was underneath the pretense. She was thoughtful, considerate, open-minded, and supportive. The war had left me scarred, inside and out. Astoria helped me come to terms with my inner demons, and I loved her for it." He wistfully smiled. "Your mother taught me how to look at a person's qualities, not their deficits. She changed my world outlook. I became a better person just by knowing her. I hope your mate will bring you the same comfort." A mischievous grin swept across his face then, lighting it with youthful exuberance, and he waggled his eyebrows once. "Best case scenario, I'm hoping for a grandson in nine months."

Scorpius felt the heat in his cheeks. To distract his stray, lusty thoughts, he glanced over at the clock. "Whoa… four minutes left!"

His father checked his pocket watch again. "Guess you'd better lay back now." He approached the bed, standing over his son as Scorpius slipped under the fine satin covers. "I'll stand watch for the first two stages, to make sure you don't hurt yourself. I'll leave you at the onset of the third stage." He cut off Scorpius' obvious question with a wave of his hand. "You won't be able to miss it when it happens – you'll get as hard as a rock. Trust me. Just make sure you capture as much of your… stuff… in your hands and quickly get it into the bowl. The more you have, the better the vision. Then cut your left thumb, left to right across the pad – it hurts less that way and heals quicker. Three drops of blood, let it soak in with the… with your jizz. Then swirl it clockwise while staring into the bowl and you'll fall into a trance-like state. You'll open your Third Eye simply by staring – it's instinctual and automatic, without any thought or effort on your part. The magic will summon the vision. Just mark your mate's face with your mind. You'll already know her, as you'll at least have crossed paths once in your life. When you do that, call for me and I'll come back here."

Scorpius took a deep breath. "Easy, yeah?"

Draco arched one golden eyebrow. "We'll see."

"Ever the optimist, that's my dad."

He had just a moment to hear his father's wish of good luck, and then pain screamed through Scorpius' brain, slamming into him like a two-tonne steam engine on full-tilt. He shrieked in agony, felt his father grip his hand, and then there was nothing but blinding, white hot pain that seemed endless.



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