Draco fought off a horny Weasley before dashing into Dumbledore's office. He was dressed in sexy leather pants and had a tattoo of a dragon on his chest.

"Hello, my boy," said the headmaster whose eyes were twinkling.

"Dumbledork," replied the Slytherin Sex God.

Dumbledore whimpered at the witty insult.

"Not so high and mighty now, you muggle loving old fool!" roared the hottie.

Dumbledore tried to hide his tears as he continued. "I think it is time to tell you something."

"Spit it out old coot!" said the Slytherin Prince.

"I have very grave news indeed. It pains me that I must reveal this to you. I wanted to spare you the pain. I care about you, Draco."

"What?"

"Actually, I think you are a stupid little shit. Anyway, you are a male Veela, which means that no straight man can resist you."

"Why the hell would straight men be attracted to a MALE Veela?"

"Why the hell would I know? As I was saying, you are a Veela, which means you must find your soulmate before you reach 17, which is in two days."

"Two days? Why the hell did you wait until now to say this?"

"I was hoping to just let you die, actually, but then I would lose my job."

"Do you know who my soulmate is?"

"Indeed I do, my boy." Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. "Your soulmate is Argus Filch."

"WHAT?" roared Draco.

"Did you know that he is actually a squib?" Dumbledore added helpfully.

Draco looked ready to pass out.

"Oh, and you must be impregnated by him too."

"I can't get pregnant!"

"I must inform you that you are incorrect, my boy. You can indeed become pregnant, and give birth."

Draco stood in shock for several minutes.

"Headmaster, could you do me a favor?"

"No."

"Please?"

"Tell me what it is, then."

"Kill me."

"I'm sorry, my boy, I cannot do that." With a quick Expelliarmus, Draco's wand was in Dumbledore's hand. He snapped it.

"You bastard!" roared Malfoy.

"I cannot take a chance. Here. This magically binding contract will free you from the soulmate obligation."

Draco quickly signed it.

"Excellent, my boy. You are indeed as retarded as they say. That contract merely prevents you from attempting to kill yourself, or asking anybody to do it for you. Run along now, Filch is waiting."