Hello and welcome to this little project of mine! First of all, since I am relatively new to : Do I really need to put this under "Crossover"? Characters of Harry Potter will only be mentioned briefly, but eh,I will let it stay that way unless someone complains. So, this is a Franada in the Harry Potter world around 1970 when Voldemort is slowly gaining power in Great Britain. Half-breeds are not very gladly seen; in fact, there are several facts forbidding Half-breeds to attend magical schools and several other things, more in the story.
Disclaimer: These beautiful characters are all owned by either Hidekaz Himaruya or JK Rowling. If they want me to keep them, though, I won't say no.
Warnings: Racism, blood (in this prologue and also later), sexual content between two male persons and I think that's it!
Matthew Williams knew the stories. Born as one of the two sons of Arthur Kirkland, a man harsh and loving and knowing like the sea, he knew the stories about enchanting men and women so beautiful that humans would die for them without batting an eyelash. He knew the stories about witches mingling with creatures from category XXXX, vampires, werewolves, Veelas, giants, merpeople, all the like. He knew the stories about men falling in love with pale women, getting drowned by mermaids. He had heard them every evening when Arthur had put him and his brother Alfred to bed, waiting for a pale woman grabbing him with long, red fingernails and a soft voice to take him with her.
Arthur had been a good, loving father, but not the most gentle and pedagogical one.
The stories were the reason he got wary when he was hunting in the deep, dark forest behind his little house on the edge of civilization and the almost deafening silence of a winter wonderland got cut off by hasty steps not far away from him though out of sight, apparently from a running person since he had never heard an animal making hard, gasping breathing noises, noisily crashing through the tree lines as if scared to death. He was wary but that didn't keep him from leaving his hidden position between the snow-covered bushes and somehow he was thankful for having an excuse to move around since he had spent hours upon hours on waiting, calm and without a single move. He followed the noises and soon discovered a trail of footsteps- human, dotted with a strange liquid in a color almost a dark, rusty red, but even more the color of a plum. Matthew kneeled down and dipped one finger in it, licking it briefly and his eyes widened in surprise when he discovered that it was blood. He knew that whatever waited on the end of this trail would be no human despite its appearance- but the creature was obviously hurt and he hesitated. A pained, almost hawk-like cry made up his mind and he hastily followed the footsteps with his raised wand. It only took a few steps until he discovered a figure huddled together in a shivering, pained heap on the snowy ground, freezing and bleeding and cursing softly in a language Matthew knew very well.
"Ah, merde," The creature said softly and then lifted its head to stare directly into Matthew's eyes.
He was beautiful.
He was a Veela, Matthew was almost completely sure of it, even though probably not entirely Veela, which made the whole situation only worse for it gave him a strong jaw with a light, blonde stubble on the chin, combined with pale skin, high cheek bones and eyes as blue as a frozen lake, whirling with grey. His lips were smooth, the lower one surprisingly full, yet still he remained manly even though his hair fell in unruly, golden waves over his shoulder blades, partly covering his face. Matthew couldn't see more of his body, only that his neck was long and ended in decently broad shoulders. There were slim, long-fingered hands with milky-white claws peeking out from the sleeves of his black velvet cloak and he bled, and he bled, dark stains coloring the floor beneath him, causing another pained noise as he stared right at Matthew, so intently that he couldn't have looked away even if he wanted to.
"Will you hurt me?" He asked with a thick accent- French, Matthew thought and couldn't breathe for a moment- and it sounded tired, although his lips twitched up into a sad smile, revealing the edge of sharp, snow-white teeth. He was still shaking and Matthew almost instinctively pointed his wand at him and cast a warming spell. There was surprise in those blue eyes before the sad smile got warm and grateful.
"May I help you?" Matthew asked and cursed at himself, for his voice was almost inaudibly against the wind and the loud breathing of the Veela- and his heart stopped for a moment when he smiled, and smiled, and smiled, reaching out with one of his beautiful hands to him.
"Please," He said softly and Matthew knew he probably shouldn't and that Veelas were dangerous, but he couldn't resist.
I'd really like some comments on this one. Thoughts? Suggestions? Thank you for reading!