Author's notes; I have reloaded this chapter with some additions, so as to give little old me some more plot material to work with.
If you want to see a disclaimer, look to my profile.
And so without further ado, I welcome you, Care Lector, to chapter 1
Lillian Potter surveyed her bedroom, the smallest bedroom of number 4 Privet Drive from her seat on the small bed. A battered trunk lay at the end of her bed, it was open and a collection of large, male clothes lay in a tangled mess half in, half out it. The clothes had been altered, some badly and it was obvious that they had been male clothes and others with more care and skill, so that they looked vaguely feminine. The clothes had once belonged to her cousin, Dudley Dursley who was as wide as a hippopotamus standing on its hind legs. Indeed, Dudley was nearly wider than he was tall and he was almost as tall as uncle Vernon.
On the cheap, time worn desk was a large owl cage that was currently empty, an inkbottle and quill along with several rolls of parchment. Around the desk was a large assortment of precariously stacked spell books, their covers obscured by an overlarge jumper so as not to offend her uncle or aunt should they enter the room.
The walls were, as ever, covered in Dudley's castaway and broken toys, books and other paraphernalia. Taped to the wall above her bed was a hand drawn calendar that counted down the days until the Weasley family was coming to pick her up. The only window was open, allowing a breeze to curl into the room, lowering the temperature slightly and allowing the red glow of the setting sun to bathe the room, turning the white painted walls red and illuminating the battered wardrobe opposite the bed.
She sighed and climbed, slowly to her feet and moved to look into the mirror that hung on the side of the wardrobe. Looking back at her was a petite young woman, with long black hair pulled back into a low ponytail, bright emerald green eyes, a small elegant nose and finely moulded lips. The large, poorly adapted male clothing that she was wearing did not entirely hide her slim body. With a sigh Lillian removed the round, black glasses that hid her eyes and rubbed a hand across her face.
Tomorrow was her sixteenth birthday. It was, to some a milestone development, but Lillian couldn't bring herself to think of it that way; a milestone event of that kind was one shared with family. The closest thing she had to family had been ordered by Dumbledore to pick her up five days after her birthday. Not that that bothered her particularly, it would just be good to have some friendly company.
'Sorry mate, but Dumbledore didn't allow us to come to get you earlier' or 'Dumbledore made us promise not to write anything of importance', was all that Ron's letters contained these days. As though he was writing out of obligation, rather than any real feelings of friendship.
Even Hermione's letter's had been
stilted at the beginning of the summer, she had obviously been
labouring under the same promise, but as time marched on her letters
became more natural and friendly.
Lillian only hoped that this
was due to her respect of Dumbledore diminishing, rather than any new
adeptness at deception.
Moving to the window, pulling the
rickety wooden desk chair with her and wincing as the bruises that
littered her torso complained loudly at the movement, she sat down
and stared out over the cookie-cutter houses of Little Whinging
illuminated by the dying sun.
She watched the sunset, and
subsequent moonrise ignorant of the passing of time. A slamming door
jerked her back to reality.
Her uncle was home. Lillian only
could only hope that he had had a good day and did not need to
relieve his frustrations on her.
Drunken yelling met her ears,
followed by the unsteady pounding of feet on the stairs.
No such luck, not even on her birthday.
Lillian slid hurriedly away from the window and turned to face
the door. She deserved what was going to happen to her.
She had
killed Sirius, and murderers did not deserve mercy.
Thump
Thump
Thump
Draco Malfoy sat in the window seat of his bedroom, staring out of the window at the expanse of gardens below and let his head fall back onto the wall with another thump.
Ever since his sixteenth birthday a month ago, there had been an ache of longing, a longing that went soul deep, in his chest. It was not so distracting that he could not function, but it grew ever so slightly worse as the days slipped by.
You see, for all those who do not know, Draco Malfoy was, like the majority of the Malfoy family before him, a Veela.
Looking at him before the transformation it was not immediately obvious, you had to know that he was to be a Veela and be scrutinising him fairly closely before the hints of his heritage were apparent. That however was then. Now, a month after his transformation it was more obviously apparent.
His eyes, once a stormy grey, were pools of silver in the moonlight and retained their silver hue in the light of day. It was softened slightly so that if you did not look too closely, they passed as the grey they had been before the transformation. His already handsome face had been altered slightly, giving it an almost unnatural beauty in the moonlight. He had grown around two inches and gained the toned physique of a lifelong athlete.
His senses had been sharpened slightly, with a better sense of smell and hearing. Remembering what one of the books had said;
'The Veela will be able, once he or she has an idea as to who the mate is, will be able to see the aura of the people the mate is friendly with. The aura will be an almost exact match to the Veela's, the Veela will be able to see his or her aura during the search for the mate. When I say see the aura, I mean that the Veela will see the imprint of the mate's aura upon the aura of the people that the mate has come into contact with. The details of the aura of those who are not the mate will remain veiled.'
Draco's magic had also been affected, where he had been a powerful wizard before, his powers were now tied to the cycle of the moon, strongest at the full moon and weakest at the new moon. He had also gained a large power boost, and an increase in the amount of control that he had over his now significantly larger magical abilities. Most Veela gain a small power boost during the transformation so as to be better able to protect his or her mate, an increase of this size must be to put him on more of an equal footing with his unknown mate
On his lap was a well-read book, not just by Draco but by generations of new Veela before him. The book was simply called 'Veela, the children of the moon'. It bore no author aside from an inscription in the front page;
To my fellow Veela,
As I was bid by the moon spirit
I crafted this book for those who live outside the kingdom
So that they may understand their heritage.
Blessed be.
Flipping it open he reread the passage that disquieted him the most.
'There are few creatures on this earth that need a mate as much as the Veela do. The mate is the opposite of the Veela in many ways, but they are also a perfect match for that Veela. Veela are creatures of love and beauty, they are also tied to the Moon. It affects their magic, their appearance, and to some extent their moods.
The mate binds the Veela to the earth and to life, as a Veela without a mate slowly falls prey to what is termed 'Moon Madness'. In their desire to be closer to the moon they waste away until the mortal body dies and the spirit of the Veela is free to do as it wished to in life. It enters the magic that is emitted by the Moon and waits until the mate dies. The soul bonds between them are then dissolved and a new mate is chosen as the basic personality of the Veela's soul changes. They are reborn and the cycle begins anew.
The time for the Veela to fall prey to 'Moon Madness' depends upon several factors, the proximity of the mate, the power of the mate, how much the personalities of both the mate and the Veela have been altered during the course of life and the previous relationship between the Veela and their mate.
The factors that aid the descent into madness are:
A large distance from the mate
A powerful mate
Extensive change in both personalities
A very bad previous relationship between the two people.
The opposite is true for warding off the Madness.
The Veela is, as a rule, normally born around a month either side of the birth of the mate. However the prospective date of the birth of the Veela does not change should the mate be born prematurely. The Veela will still be born around the month of the original prospective date of birth of the mate.
Draco slammed the book shut. It was useless. It gave him no help as to finding out who his mate was.
'I mean' he thought 'it is not as though I can ask everyone at Hogwarts when they were meant to be born! It was absurd, his mate scent would be all over Hogwarts and it would be next to impossible to determine where it was coming from.
'Couldn't it just be that my mate is the only one that I can see the aura of or something? My sense of smell is not so good as to be able to pinpoint the person who smells like my mate.'
Lifting his head Draco stared out of the gardens behind the manor house. The geometric shapes of the hedges and rosebushes took on a slightly eerie look as the moonlight washed over them, coating them in silver. The fields and woods beyond were half hidden, the trees in swaying slightly in the wind that rustled their silver leaves. Lifting his face Draco stared at the beautiful full moon and prayed to find his mate and that he or she would accept him when he found them.