A/N: Okay, so I realized it wasn't fair to make you guys choose without even reading a small amount of the Draco/Harry Veela fic. So here's a tad bit of it. Harry is a Submissive!Veela, and more will be explained, this is just a prologue of sorts. By the way, I've gotten started on the first one shot for my first reviewer, and I'm going to start on the second one soon after as well. I still have to PM my third reviewer.

I will warn you know, although Harry is Submissive he will be VERY possessive of Draco. There will be a large possibility of Mpreg, and other pairings may or may not consist of Lucius/Severus, Ginny/Luna, Blaise/Pansy, Ron/Hermione, and mentions of one sided James Potter/Voldemort;Tom Riddle (It is NECCASARY FOR THE PLOT).

There will be Ronbashing, but only for a short while in the plot, sorry. I love Ron.

Also HARRY IS DARKER THAN USUAL. He won't be perfect Gryffindor, he will be very out of character. I apologize.

Anyways, enjoy, and tell me what you think. Which one sounds more interesting? This is unbeta-ed

Harry wasn't expecting much of anything on his sixteenth birthday. He couldn't leave his rotting family yet, and he was rather sure that he wouldn't hear from his friends either, until he was able to finally go back to Hogwarts.

So there The-Boy-Who-Lived sat in his room, just leaning against his bed post and looking at the ceiling. At a small noise, his gaze fell from the top of his room, to near his closet, a small smile tugging on his lips. "Hedwig," He scolded playfully, "You mustn't make noise, else those Muggles come in and try to strip you of your wings. Although I wouldn't quite mind hexing them in your defense..."

Over time, against his own wishes, Harry had found himself to begin to detest muggles. He knew that he shouldn't blame every single one of them for the horrible people he'd been stuck with all his life, but that was one of the only selfish things that he could possess.

Selfish…

All his life, Harry had spent himself selflessly serving others and he was tired of it. From when he was old enough to walk he'd been doing housework for his Aunt and Uncle. When he was introduced into the magical world, he was selflessly saving others, putting his life at risk as "The-Boy-Who-Lived", claiming his hero title. It disgusted him. The studying he'd done for Hermione because he didn't want to disappoint her. The mindless flirting, and small dates he would go on was for Ginny. He didn't truly find himself to love her, but he wanted everyone to stay happy. The chess he'd learn, the taunting of Malfoy he'd done, it was for Ron.

Malfoy. As Harry thought about it, he didn't truly hate the Slytherin. The more he dug around into his mind, he was quite attracted to the boy. He was possessive, too. Hermione had noticed it last year, how Harry refused to let anyone speak ill of the blonde. He'd stopped himself, and whenever he heard Ron say something cruel, he would sniff and comment on how they were too old to be worrying about petty rivalries. It embarrassed Ron most of the time, but there were those few moments when the Weasley boy would go into a rant about how the Malfoy's and Weasley's never got along, which lead to the green eyed boy to leave the room in his anger.

He'd been ecstatic to find out that the Malfoy's, Zabini's, Parkinson's and some other Voldemort supporters were actual spies for Dumbledore. That meant that even though Malfoy may have not liked him, he certainly didn't want to kill him, and that was better than nothing. It meant that now Harry may have a chance to get to know Malfoy as a person, and not just a Slytherin bloke who was going to become a rotten Death Eater. He was glad that when he voiced is opinion about getting along with the Slytherin group, at least being civil, Hermione, Ginny, Seamus, and Dean seemed all for it, meanwhile Neville was a tad hesitant about the idea, and Ron just thought he'd gone bloody mad. The fire head didn't understand why Harry would even waste his time, but Harry would do anything to try to know Malfoy a little better.

Harry didn't know when he'd begun to feel this way, but he was extremely infatuated with him. This disgusted him as well, considering the fact that he was another boy. Even though same sex relationships were accepted in the wizarding world, it was frowned upon by muggles. As soon as Dudley found he fancied boys, the ridicule didn't stop by the three. It made Harry feel more of a freak than what he already was. He couldn't win in this family. He never would, he was grateful that school would be returning and he could get away from them, then spend his last summer in that house and finally be free to never worry about these wretched muggles again.

At the sound of another hoot from his snowy bird, Harry looked towards his barred window and saw that the sun was almost completely up, and he stepped down from his bed, and looked around his room, dressing in a casual black sleeveless hoodie and jeans, one of his only clothing that weren't handed down from Dudley and actually fit him. He ruffled his hair slightly and checked himself into the mirror.

While Ron had spurted like a beanstalk and grown into a nice 5"11, Harry had been stuck at 5"6, the same height as Ginny and an inch shorter than Hermione. His slender frame was slightly tanned from his working outside so much, and he was toned out rather nicely, considering he'd dealt with so much labor this year. His eyes remained a dull green, and his hair still messed and splayed everywhere. Over all, Harry was a decent looking person. Not too bad, but not Draco handsome either.

Moving away from his mirror, he walked to the door and opened it with a held breath. 'Well, Happy Birthday to me.'

DMHP

"Boy, get your arse over here and pour me some more juice!" The gruff voice of Vernon Dursely sounded through the kitchen over the loud noise of Dudley's slobbish eating.

Harry mumbled the word "Coming" with the pitcher of his homemade Orange Juice and as he began to pour it into his Uncle's cup, his vision was blurred into white as a hot burning sensation went through his body. It felt so horrible that his hands became shaky and the pitcher fell to the floor, smashing into pieces, and not a second later he joined the broken pitcher, falling onto his hands and knees as he tried to overcome the pain.

Although it was obvious Harry wasn't well, Vernon's face went red in anger at his now broken pitcher. "YOU BLOODY FOOL!" He roared, standing from his seat, causing Dudley and Petunia to stop in their tracks and watch the situation. Dudley's amusement was clear on his face, while as Petunia kept a nicely made poker face to hide the slight horror she felt

Vernon easily ignored them as he only had eyes for Harry at the moment. "You rotten boy! We take you into our house, raise you, and for what!? To have you break everything we own?" A low growl escaped his lips as he thought about the money he'd have to spend on buying a whole new dining set because of the broken pitcher.

Meanwhile, Harry had taken into the fetal position and was begging merlin to release this pain from him as soon as possible. At Vernon's words though, he placed his hands over his ringing ears with a whimper. "Please, stop."

"Vernon, dear, maybe you should-"

"Be quiet, Petunia!" The large man snapped at his frail wife. His eyes quickly returned back to the blemish in his life. It just angered him more that the boy had enough nerve to sit there and act as if he couldn't listen to him, the person who provided a home for the spoiled freak. "Boy! You'd better listen to me! No wonder your parent's bloody well died, they were trying to get away from-"

Harry could take no more as the pain grew. "I SAID STOP." He screamed, and before he knew what he was doing, a bright light filled the house, followed by Vernon screaming bloody murder. He finally looked opened his eyes, not even realizing he had been clenching them so tight that they were a tad sore, and looked up, What he saw amazed him.

Vernon was one fire. His shirt was a blaze and he was running around trying to put it out. It was then he realized her couldn't hear Vernon 's screams, it was as if the ringing in his ears was tuning them out, he could only tell by the movement of his mouth that there was more than likely a noise coming from it. He never noticed Petunia and Dudley's screams either, as he never took his eyes away from Vernon. It was almost slow motions as he saw the man run past the kitchen curtain, which caught on fire as well. Soon the house went into flames, and that surely woke him from his trance.

Immediately, he felt a headache coming on as everyone's loud screams came at him at once. He knew he could save them, but did he want to? Should he help the people who'd have left him for dead if they'd had the chance? He knew his answer, and ran up towards his room. There, he reached under his bed, and with a quick tug, all of his things came from under there, he put on his duffel bag, containing all his things. Harry took an overgrown shirt and placed dint over his owl's cage, not wanting her to breathe in the fumes, as well as he needed to comfort her with the dark for a while. Taking his Firebolt in one hand, and Hedwig's cage in the other, with one last look around, he made his way downstairs, holding his breath as he tried to ignore the smoke emitting from the house.

The sight before him was rather gruesome. Vernon lay on the floor, twitching. He'd worn out his voice box and he was honestly very close to dying right then and there. Petunia was trying to hide away from the flames, while protecting Dudley, who was crying, begging for her to go check on his father. They were darkened with ash, and trembling with fear.

Harry just looked at them for a second, and made to step over his Uncle, taking one step out the house. For some reason, the fire didn't seem to want to hurt him, almost as if it cooled whenever he was near. For as soon as he stepped outside, the flames grew, and he could everyone's agonizing screams once more. He just stood there was watched, face blank. As the house fell from the structure being burned, he mused on how the screaming had subsided, which could only mean they were dead.

At the thought, Harry's couldn't help the small chuckle that was forming. It kept growing though, until he just threw his head back and a loud, almost hysterical laugh finally escaped from him. Free. He was finally free from those horrid people. They were gone! Harry could finally go stay with serious like he'd always hoped. He would be able to leave this wretched muggle life and stay with the wizarding world for good. As Harry lowered his head, amusement danced in his eyes.

"Happy Birthday, to me."

But before any celebrating could be done Harry felt pain once more, and fell to the floor, worn out and accepting of the darkness that was sure to take his pain.

DMHP

As Harry awoke he heard two voices arguing. He felt too weak to open his eyes so he was depending on his ears to listen in. These people sounded so familiar.

"And you're sure they're dead?"

"Of course, the house was burnt to a crisp and I found him passed out from inhaling the smoke fumes and what I can guess was his inheritance peeking through. It is his day of birth today."

"He's only Sixteen years of age, though."

"Don't you think I know that? How could he have come into his inheritance so soon?" Professor Snape? "It seems as though Potter is still full of surprises." Yep, it's Professor Snape. No one could say his name with such disdain except for him.

"Even though, Severus, what were you possibly thinking in bringing him here?" That voice…. It didn't sound like someone he'd recognize right off the bat. He knew he'd heard the voice before, though.

"Because it'd be quite the troublesome punishment I'd have to go through if Dumbledore found out that I didn't take care of the Boy-Who-Lived when I knew about his inheritance this whole time." Once again, it was Snape.

"Well, Sev, what is his inheritance? What's our little Golden Boy got up his sleeve now?" …No. Harry knew that voice from anywhere. It was Draco Bloody Malfoy! He could feel his face flush slightly at the thought of him. Why? Why was he here? He knew now that the other voice was the one of Lucius Malfoy. So he was in Malfoy manor? Snape brought him here? What inheritance could that blasted teacher be talking about? Unbeknownst to him, Snape had already explained himself while Harry had tuned them out to muse to himself.

He was brought back at the sound of a chuckle which was made by the youngest Malfoy. "Wow, Uncle Sev, so you mean to tell me that Potter here is a Solar Veela?"

Immediately Harry's eyes shot open and he took in his surroundings. He was in a plain room, with black, satin sheets adoring his full sized bed. Standing beside his bed were Severus Snape and Lucius Malfoy themselves, and right behind them was Draco Lucius Malfoy leaning against the doorway, a small smirk in place as he eyed Harry up and down. That was strange… Malfoy never used to give him the time of day. Pushing that thought away he turned back to Snape with wide eyes. "I'm a WHAT?"

"You heard him, Golden Boy." All eyes turned to Draco, who wore a Cheshire grin on his face. "You're a Solar Veela. A bloody Submissive Veela."