Author's note: This is my first fan fiction! Eep! Try to take it easy on me, pwease? Oh and this fic will be set for the most part in France, but due to my lacking skills in French, speech will be 99 percent English.

.&.&.

Prologue

Thursday 4th December 2008

Draco Malfoy grimaced in pain as a stray thorn sliced forcefully into the rather delicate skin of his left thigh. Despite the pain, he continued running, desperate to escape from his hunter. Fear sliced through his body when a carefully thrown fireball swooshed elegantly past his right ear, singeing his hair slightly before exploding on a nearby tree.

The subsequent trembling of the earth beneath him almost caused him to lose his footing, but by some incredible luck he managed to stay afoot. He quickly changed the direction he was heading towards in favour of a more densely covered area of the forest he was navigating himself through.

He flayed and thrashed around in a desperate attempt to clear the intertwined branches and plants. It was so hard to do things the muggle way; if only he could have saved his wand! His breathing became far more rapid upon the barrage of screams, screeches and explosions forced entry into his ears.

They were gaining on him, getting closer. It would only be a minute, if that, they caught up with him and destroyed him. There was no escape for him, not without a wand.

He continued running despite the knowledge he could not be helped, despite the trees attacking him.

Draco charged into an open space and stopped abruptly to look above. The trees were parted slightly to show the sky above – dark, with stars scattered everywhere and the moon sitting calmly among them all, oblivious to the blood hunt occurring beneath her. He marvelled in the beauty of the full moon for a moment, forgetting the chase, pain and terror residing within him.

They all came back far too soon as another blood-curdling screech echoed through the forest, the sound rebounding from tree to tree. Draco gulped and tried to swallow, but found his mouth to be too dry for such a thing.

Above him, blocking the moon from view was the hunter he had been running from all this time. She screeched to her fellow chasers that the prey had been found and that unless notified, it would be all hers.

Draco stood rigid, too scared to move a muscle. Or perhaps it was because he could already concede defeat, the Veela had found him, he was to be her mince meat and he could accept that now. There was nowhere to run, he was to die a dishonourable and excruciating death.

The Veela folded her wings and fell elegantly to the earth, landing on her feet with her legs slightly bowed. She lifted her claws to her face and scratched at the leathery skin covering her cheek. Her pitch black beak opened and she hissed gently at the prey before her, enjoying the fear in his eyes. She enjoyed her hunting games. Food always had been nicer when she had played with it!

Ironically the dress adorning her figure was not tattered or ruined in the slightest. Draco wondered if it was simply because she had grown accustomed to hunting at a young age and therefore knew how to hunt without harming herself in the slightest. Practice makes perfect, after all. He also wondered with dread if she had known his location the entire time and was simply toying with him, her prey, deciding on the opportune moment to strike and catch him.

He also wondered, again with dread, if the rest of her clan were coming to become spectators to his ritualistic killing. With one swift search around the area he noticed eyes watching him through the shadows between the trees and heard the joyous clucking emerging from all directions.

The Veela before him rose her angelic looking white wings above her head in victory and swept her arms up to form two fists above her head. Her fists slowly began to glow and Draco again found himself gulping. It was all going to end in a few moments, all thanks to his own stupidity. His precious son Scorpius was to grow up without a father and his fiancé Astoria was never to know the honour of becoming a Malfoy.

He watched in pained silence as the Veela opened her claws gently. A flame flickered gently before bursting into an extremely large fireball, the size of three human heads and probably more. The Veela screeched in joy, her beady eyes focused entirely on Draco. She bent back slightly, preparing herself, pulling her arms back with her for a slingshot effect.

She hurled her body forward, and just as she had begun to do so, another Veela flew from the shadows and speared the original Veela out of the way. The fireball's direction was misled and instead it hurled into a dense area of trees where Draco had noticed the most Veela waiting and watching. Upon contact with one of the Veela, it exploded and Draco had to shield his ears from the dying screams of the Veela.

He wanted to run away from the flames, but he knew in doing so would be even more dangerous to his health. Veela from all the shadows suddenly hurdled into the area and ran towards the two brawling Veela on the ground.

More fireballs were thrown, more dying screams and victorious screeches pierced the air and the Veela started to slowly kill their own clan out in retaliation for the continuous deaths.

Draco flew to the ground as soon as he was over the shock and folded his hands over his head as he wrapped himself up into the foetal position.

Minutes dragged by, the fires blazed, and Draco felt a sharp pair of claws rip into the skin of his shoulders. The sound of wings flapping hard could be heard over the carnage and suddenly, Draco was no longer on the ground. He opened his eyes and saw he was quickly drifting away from the destruction below. He looked above to his saviour and saw he was in the clutches of an enraged female Veela.

Oh, bugger.