Author's Note:

This lovely little diddy was written for Dramione Fanfiction Writer's Tropefest. I was assigned the Veela trope. This was not something I was familar with in the slightest when assigned, so forgive the die hard Veela fic fans if this disappoints. I did take a couple liberties to make this story work how I saw fit, such as: Draco & Hermione went to school together, just as they did in the series but there was no war. No DE, no Dark Mark, etc.. This really pushed me out of my normal comfort zone with writing and I cannot thank Dramione Fanfiction Writer enough for pushing me! Side note: I do not know French and used Google Translate to help, sorry if it's not 100% perfect.

Alpha: Disenchantedglow - Girl, this story would have NEVER come about if it wasn't for your endless support. 3
Beta: Islandgurl777 - my ride or die bitch. love you forever and always. I might even consider giving you a kidney if needed. ;)

Enough blathering from me. go read, review and hopefully don't throw too many tomatoes my way!


Disclaimer: I do not make money from this. All credits for characters can be given to JK Rowling.


Draco stood near the end of his bed, his wand tapping against his chin as his steely grey eyes flickered between two button-down shirts that were nearly indistinguishable. Both charcoal gray, both with long cuffs, and both impeccably pressed. The difference between the two being the stitching pattern that ran the seams of the pressed fabric. Most might consider something so trivial, but Draco was clearly not one of those people.

"Honestly, Draco. You really need not be concerned with which designer you will be wearing while there," came the calming dulcet tones of his mother from the doorway to his room. Narcissa, ever the epitome of grace and sophistication, glided into the room. The floor length gown she had decided on this morning hid her heels from view and it almost appeared as if she was floating across the wooden floor of the manor. "But if you must, I would say the one on the left." Lifting her holly wand, she pointed to the selected shirt and with a quick swish, it began to fold itself before neatly settling in the trunk that lay open on the edge of his bed.

Draco knew his mother was excited for his departure. She could hardly contain her joy the moment the letter from the Ministry arrived. Ministry Sanction 7981: Unbound Wizards or Witches with Veela heritage must make the pilgrimage to Dauphiné, France for a two week mandatory stay beginning their 24th year. It was nothing but a crock of shit and he was certain it might possibly be illegal. Under different circumstances his parents might have agreed and helped him fight the decree, but Narcissa had been pestering him to go there since his 17th birthday.

Les Champs D'accouplement, or as it was loosely translated, The Mating Fields. A proverbial breeding ground for all persons with Veela heritage and the most likely place he would find his mate. The idea sent a bolt of energy to his gut that made him nearly nauseated. He did not have time to deal with things like mates, marriage or babies. He was preparing to take over Malfoy Industries the following year and would much rather spend his heats in bed with whatever random witch he had happened to be shacking up with during that time. It was far less complicated; the chances of reproducing were very limited due to the wonderful contraceptive potions (which were known to not work while Veela females were in heat) and there was zero commitment to stay with the witch. Besides, they usually made it through the week just fine. Sure he had to restrain himself from fully giving into his desires, but he's never hurt a witch.

No, this was just the Ministry overreaching, yet again, because some fucking Wizard (or Witch) lost their head with a non-Veela and they got injured in their frenzy. Truthfully, it was kind of absurd because how bad could a sex injury truly be?

"Despite what you are assuming, Mother, I intend to stay fully clothed during my stay," Draco explained, his own wand flicking the other floating shirt back towards his walk-in closet before he moved over to the trunk to make sure everything was in order. Loafers, check. Trousers, check. Button downs, check. Pajamas, check. Reaching to the top of the trunk, Draco pulled the heavy lid closed, letting the thunk resound off the walls in his room for dramatic impact. Because slamming his trunk might show his mother how truly and utterly displeased he was with having the forced 'two week vacation'.

"Draco. Do please try to lighten up during your stay. Your visit will be miserable if you go not allow yourself to find joy in our culture," Narcissa tisked at her son, reaching out her fingers to brush the flaxen hair on the back of his head softly like she would do when he was a child and upset. Even now, at twenty-four, it was obvious that his outward display of emotions had remained unchanged.

"I hardly call the Ministry forcing me to go to that compound a visit," he sneered, batting away his mother's hand. Tapping his wand to the top of the trunk, the leather belts magically secured the trunk closed before it shrunk down to no bigger than a matchbook. Pocketing the miniature trunk quickly, Draco turned to face his mother who was pursuing her rouged lips at him disapprovingly. "What?"

"I was hoping your attitude regarding this might have changed since receiving the letter," Narcissa stated plainly, crystal blue eyes scanning her son's face quizzically. "Your father and I have encouraged you to visit for many years now, without much success-"

"Have you considered that perhaps I am not ready to give into the biological need to fuck one person for the rest of my life?" Draco snapped, and almost instantly regretted the tone he had taken when his mother's eyes flashed gold temporarily in a warning for him to mind his tongue. "I...I'm sorry, Mother." Sighing he reached out, taking her hand into his own gently.

"You do understand that if you find your mate, it is hardly a horrible thing." She gave his palm a gentle squeeze in reassurance that this was the right move. Yes, the Ministry might be forcing their comfortable bachelor of a son into attendance, but the possibility of him being able to find his other half was not something she would ever discourage. Not when she knew of the happiness finding her own mate had brought her.

"I'll do my best to contain my indignation should I find them," he replied with the hint of a smirk tugging on the corners of his lips. Leaning forward, he pressed a soft kiss on his mother's cheek, his hand slipping from her motherly hold. "I will see you in two weeks, Mother."

Narcissa returned the gesture, her smudge-proof lips brushing against Draco's high cheekbone, and as he began to make his way to the door, she turned to follow. Crystal blue eyes tracked his movement. "I'll expect your letter in a fortnight then. Although, I must ask you to write sooner than that, as I do need to make arrangements to meet your new bride sooner than later," she called out to him as he reached the doorway, the hint of a smile twinkling in her eyes as she watched him take a heavy breath, and although his back was to her, she could almost guarantee it was partnered with an eye roll, before he continued into the hallway, not bothering with a reply.

Apparating from England to France was not ideal for most wizards or witches. The distance was vast, but he far preferred the risk to an international Portkey. Even though he had never set foot on the sacred grounds of Les Champs D'accouplement, his body knew the way, like a Hippogriff returning to its breeding grounds each century. Biology was able to provide the beacon needed for him to get there.

He landed just outside a set of golden gates. They twisted like living vines, creating a complex pattern of filigree. Beyond them he could make out the tops of a large white tent, several small cottages, and people milling about. He brushed his hands cross his lapel as he stumbled to a standstill, gaining his legs on the soft earth he'd landed on when he heard his name coming from beyond the gate.

"Oh, you must be Drake Malfroy!" came an overly-enthusiastic American accent. Male, if he had to guess by the baritone it held. "Just a sec'. I always struggle with the lock on this thing."

"Draco Malfoy," he corrected, watching the glittering golden gate shutter under the ministrations of the American until a soft 'pop' could be heard and it creaked open. As the gate was pulled open, the compound that was hidden by the massive metal fell into few. Stone-paved walking paths lead the way between a complex maze of cottages, gardens, benches and various other meeting areas. All of which eventually seemed to lead to the massive white tent building that sat atop a small grassy knoll. Draco had not noticed the scent of fresh lavender and spring flowers when he had Apparated in, but now with the full breadth of the gardens in view, it was nearly intoxicating. He had never seen so many blooming flowers before his in life. Sure, the Manor held gardens, but this was boardline outrageous.

"Oh yes, Sorry. My error. Sometimes my handwriting is a bit sloppy. Draco Malfoy." The American came into view. He was a slender man with shoulder-length golden hair that fell in waves around his almost angelic face. His skin was sunkissed, and a light smattering of freckles littered his shoulders and the bridge of his thin nose. He wore no shirt, which was more than slightly unnerving considering he had the body of a Greek god. Lean, yes, but rippled with muscles. For fucks sake, he even had those little v-shaped muscles leading toward his low hung linen pant line. Draco considered himself 110% heterosexual, thank you very much, but even his own cock began to harden at the sight of the man before him. "Well come on in! Welcome to Les Champs D'accouplement." The blonde waved his hand to usher in Draco, who stood practically frozen drinking in his sight.

This was going to be a long fucking two weeks if everyone here happened to look like that. Draco shook off the strange draw he felt for the man and stepped just beyond the gate, his loafers settling into the soft plush grass that lined almost every bit of unpaved earth that was not covered by flowers.

Once Draco had stepped over the threshold, the golden blond man shut the glittering gate once more before turning to him with a large toothy grin. "You're very punctual, Mr. Malfoy," he commented, pulling a black clipboard from beneath his bicep. He fluttered through a couple pages until he seemed to find what he was looking for. "Oh, wonderful. You'll be staying in Alpine Silver. Lovely little bungalow just on the ridge. Great view of the hot spring trail and in the morning you can usually catch a glimpse of the local Mooncalf herd!" he exclaimed excitedly, large purple eyes lighting up at the idea.

"Wonderful," Draco did nothing to shield the man from seeing his eye roll before he checked his wrist watch. He wanted to note the time he stepped foot into this Aphrodite's paradise so he could make sure he had an precise time in which he could leave in 13 days, 23 hours and 59 minutes.

"My name is Alister, I will be your concierge for your visit here, although after today there usually is not much use for me. We're not a very complex operation, you see," the American explained as he held out his hand towards Draco for him to shake. When Draco only looked at it with a raised brow he awkwardly withdrew it. "Oh right... You're the one whose mother wrote us. How stupid, I almost forgot."

Mother wrote them? Merlin's pants, what the bloody hell was that woman thinking? Draco seemed to simmer at Alister's words, his tongue pressing into the tip of his right canine tooth. "And what did she say, exactly?"

Alister shrugged as he began to walk backwards across the plush grass towards the beginning of the paved walkway. "Oh nothing really of interest," he lied, a playful grin tugging up the corners of his lips. "Never you mind about it. Right this way, if you'd please. We're just going up onto the ridge, right next to the large white tent."

Draco's nostrils flared every so slightly. Nevermind? What could his mother have possibly said that would have been of interest to the concierge of this place? Beyond that, what room did he have to judge him? He was a glorified bellhop! Tamping down his quickly rising annoyance, Draco followed Alister in silence through the complex maze of cottages.

Les Champs D'accouplement was large; from what Draco could tell there were easily thirty or so small cottages they passed on their way up the grassy knoll. The front of each cottage seemed to hold its name. There was a collection of Oaks, and Cedars that they passed through before finally making their way into the Alpines. As he walked along the path, Alister would give friendly greetings to various couples that were walking hand in hand around the grounds. Each person was more beautiful than the last, but what surprised him the most was that they all appeared different. No, not all of them possessed the stereotypical blonde hair. They were beauties of every color, race and even every gender. It seemed Veela mating bonds held no regard to sexual preferences, because it appeared his 'next door neighbors' were a young lesbian couple, at least that was what he assumed based off of their porch swing liplock.

"Here we go, Mr. Malfoy, You can head in first if you'd like since it is going to be yours for the next…." Alister's large purple eyes dropped to clipboard once more and his brow furrowed. "Oh. You've only marked two weeks on your reservation. No worries! I'll correct it once I pop back to to my room."

"No, two weeks is quiet right," Draco moved past the confused blonde to open the rickety looking front door to his cottage. Inside was as simple as out. Whatever sort of rustic feel they were going for was achieved, and then some, because in his humble (and unwanted) opinion the hovel looked similar to what he assumed the Weasley's place resembled. Old wooden furniture, an oversized bed against the middle of the room in the back with quilt, a shelf for his trunk next to that, a small bar above it to hang his shirts and trousers so they did not wrinkle. In the corner of the room was a small dining table and two chairs. On the opposite side of that was a single door which Draco hoped lead to the bathroom. It was downright quaint. Under normal circumstances he might have been able to see the sort of charm it had, but now it just felt like a slap in the face. "I won't be here any longer than necessary."

"Oh, wow," Alister remarked as he followed Draco into the bungalow, looking around the room to make sure everything was stocked and cleaned for their newest arrival. "You must feel very confident about finding your mate. That's fantastic. Can you sense their presence already? I knew immediately when Luca arrived. There was something in the air... It smelled divine."

"No. On the contrary. I have no expectations about finding 'my mate' while I am forced to stay here," Draco replied as he pulled the matchbook-sized trunk from his pocket and set it on the shelf before reversing the charm so it would return back to its original size.

"...then why would you leave?" Alister asked incredulously, as if the notion of leaving without finding the one person they were supposed to be with was ludicrous. Surely he understood his chances of finding them would increase tenfold with each day spent inside the gates of Les Champs D'accouplement. Veela from around the world came here to find their other half, and at all times of the year. It wasn't just a one visit per year type of establishment. Sometimes it took longer than two weeks.

"Why would I stay?" Draco glanced back over to Alister, his face carefully void of any emotions. "I am required to stay two weeks by the British Ministry of Magic. If it is believed one must stay until their mate is found, then surely that would have been specified, right?"

"Uh... Well, I mean, I know Ma Reine is working on lengthening the stay requirements but it is really best if you-"

"Well Ma Reine is clearly out of touch with the needs of her people," Draco grumbled, cutting off Alister quickly. "Look, I get it. You like this place. It certainly has a sort of… Appeal to it if you're into the whole floral French cottage vibe. I, however, have a real job waiting for me back in England." Opening his trunk he pulled out a thick stack of magazines he had purchased for the trip, so he might not be entirely bored to tears while he waited the mandatory three hundred and thirty six hours. "My Ministry has designated two weeks as the mandatory sentence for here, and I intend to stay for no more and no less."

Alister nodded slowly, large purple eyes widening to convey to the snappy wizard his intention was more than crystal clear. The letter from his mother had left a word of warning about how, although her son was the apple of her eye, he was dreadfully arrogant and thought spending any time in Les Champs D'accouplement was a complete and utter waste of time. The letter also went on to highlight his favorite meals and scents, so they might prepare some comforts of home for 'her treasure'. Upon reading it through the first time, Alister originally thought it a bad joke from a former guest, but after his name checked off on the upcoming attendee register list sent from the Coalition of Foreign Ministries, he realised how utterly odd the situation was.

A Veela who knowingly did not seek out their mate was one who clearly had no regard for other people in their lives. They were meant to find their partner, and share their lives together. In fact, it was statistically proven that Veela who were bonded to their mate often lived longer, healthier lives than those who never got the chance to find their other half. This reason is one of the many why Les Champs D'accouplement was created centuries ago by the first Veela Queen and her bonded Mate.

"Well, I suppose I shall leave you to your…" Alister's eyes flicked across the stack of magazines Draco unceremoniously dropped onto the foot of his bed, his hands curling around the top of the clipboard as he tucked it against his chest. "...reading. I will come collect you at eight to escort you to your first Couplage. Until then feel free to explore the grounds. There are some hot springs just up the path to the left of your bungalow that have a breathtaking view of the valley at sunset, should you feel so inclined to socialize."

Draco did not bother looking up from the pile of magazines he was sifting through to find one that looked like it might hold his interest for the next two hours. When he felt Alister's eyes on him, waiting for a response he lifted his head and nodded. "I'll keep that in mind, thank you." A force smile played over his face for a moment before he looked back down to the magazines, clearly intent on not taking up the concierge's suggestion.

Alister let out a soft puff of breath, shaking his head as he turned from the bungalow and shut the rickety front door behind him upon his exit, his hand going up to rub against his face in an exasperated fashion as he began down the path. Draco Malfoy was going to be a thorn in his side, Alister could already tell this from their limited interactions.

The two hour wait until Alister's return seemed to go by extraordinarily slow. It wasn't that the articles on The Proper Broomstick Care and The Contrast and Comparison of the Nimbus 3301 vs The Firebolt 360 were not of interest. No, they were well-written articles that Draco found great pleasure in reading, but every so often, as the late summer breeze blew the curtains of his window, Draco caught a scent that made his entire body come alive. He felt tingly from head to toe, his words would cross momentarily and he had begun to feel incredibly warm despite it being no hotter than 75 degrees . When the breeze brushed across his skin for what felt like the umpteeth time, he finally gave up on finishing the magazine and decided to ready himself for the evening.

A cold shower was taken in hopes it could soothe the Veela blush that had crept across his pale skin, and additionally, he used that time to take care of the growing problem in his trousers. He had always thought more clearly after a good wank, and tonight was no exception. It did little to calm what he knew to be his Veela drive, but it did put a small dampener on the flame, as if bringing the urges to a slow simmer.

Dressing in a pair of gray tweed trousers, and a white button down left untucked with the collar loose to allow the soft breeze to cool his warmed skin, Draco checked his wristwatch once more before heading outside to wait on his porch for Alister.

"You might consider changing, Mr. Malfoy," The American called to Draco as he walked down the path. He was sans clipboard this time, his long golden hair pulled back in a low bun on the base of his neck and he wore just a pair of torn jeans low on his lips. Draco could not help but notice that yet again, the man wore no shoes, which slightly unnerved him for some inexplicable reason.

"I am dressed to my comfort level, Alister," the blonde wizard explained, looking down at his outfit before up to the concierge. Draco felt, in his opinion, entirely underdressed already. This was boardline casual for him, for Merlin's sake, he had cuffed his pant legs to his ankles, exposing his entire shoe. Something his mother had called a 'boat shoe' when he had first purchased them. They were comfortable, but entirely too casual for his normal style.

"The dress code for Couplague is far more… casual than what you've chosen," Alister tried to explain as he eyed the wizard carefully.

"This is casual."

"Oh… well in that case," Alister snickered slightly before making a sweeping gesture in front of him with an upturned palm. "Right this way, Mr. Malfoy."

The pair began down the paved path in near silence. It appeared as if the other guests of Les Champs D'accouplement were already inside the main white tent. Draco could hear the soft sound of melodic string music as they approached, and was immediately thankful that whoever had selected the background music for whatever they were about to walk into at least had some taste. As they approached the front set of doors to the tent, Alister began to slow his pace.

"I just want to remind you that since it is your first night attending Couplage, you are not really expected to participate unless you want. We know it can be a lot to take in, especially your first time," Alister explained.

"Participate? What do you mean participate?" Draco questioned, lifting a finely manicured brow at Alister before he looked over to the set of double doors, craning his next to see if he could make out anything past the frosted glass. "There's not like...fucking board games or something inside? Far be it from me to tell you all how to run this place, but exploding snap or wizards chess is not exactly my idea of a great evening."

This time, Alister did not hide his laughter, letting out a full, throaty chuckle at Draco as he walked the few paces up to the door and he opened it up for them. "Wow… You really must have not done any research before arriving here… Just… well, let's just say that as riveting as Candyland and Chutes & Ladders might be, we do not make habit of playing board games while Couplage is occuring."

Chutes & what? Draco's head snapped toward Alister, eyes narrowing in confusion at the American. Just as he was about to open his mouth to question what the fuck Candyland was, the lull of music from inside the tent overtook his sense, and before he could realise what was happening, his feet began to carry him into the tent.

They entered a small foyer. It looked like on either side of the narrow path that lead to the silk-covered entrance to the main tent was lined with magically lit candles that danced with every color flame possible, even quite a few shades he could not name off the top of his head. The opening to the tent was draped with multi-hued silks as well from from the ceiling to floor. Beyond them he could make out the low lighting inside, and the occasional shape of what he assumed were people walking about.

Alister moved first, brushing past him and in past the silks with zero hesitation, his bare feet padding against the soft carpeting that lined the floor.

Draco followed. For a moment he felt stupefied by the sheer presences of whatever was beyond the silks. The scent was heady and thick, like he could almost see the Veela pheromones that were clearly present in this building. It smelt nearly sickening sweet and caused his stomach to clench. The feverish blush he had been fighting all evening returned in full force, setting his skin aflame and making his clothes suddenly feel like sandpaper as they rubbed against him. So this was why Alister said he was overdressed. He could have been a little more fucking specific. Reaching up to undo the first three buttons of his shirt and rolling up his sleeves, Draco moved through the foyer and past the silks which felt a little more bearable against his glowing skin.

The room was more dimly lit than he had thought, and it took a moment for his eyes to adjust to what was occuring around him, and as the room began to materialize, Draco's breath caught in his throat, his nostrils flaring just slightly in response.

The room was massive, easily the size of the Great Hall, with multiple alcoves on each side of the rectangular room. Around the main part of the room were small groupings of sofas, chairs, tables and settees. Which, by itself did not inspire the lust that was suddenly coursing through his veins. It was the fact that scattered about on the pods of furniture and up against the walls of the tent were very naked (or in various states of undress) couples who were using the sofas, chairs, tables and settees as props to aid their lovemaking. Draco had just unknowingly walked into, for lack of a better term, a Veela Orgy.