Disclaimer: I do not own anything.
Authors note: K sweet, first Harry Potter FanFic. I'm sorry if I bugger up any of my British slag or verse. I tired my best to research shite.
I'm apologizing now for any fuck up's with characters or story line. I've only read HBP and just finished OoTP like a week ago.
I hope you Enjoy.
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Draco had the largest sneer plastering his face. It was his 17th birthday and even through his father was in Azkaban his mother was still here to give him presents, bought with Malfoy money.
Climbing out of bed the boy made his way to the bathroom. Most ungracefully, He brushed his teeth and stripped his pants. Spitting then hopped into a pair of slacks. Washing his face and putting on his shirt took some talent. Finally his hair, which could not be rushed, was taken care of. One last look in the mirror and Draco felt confident that he was presentable.
Back in his room Draco let out a chuckle. He had shaved 10 minuets off of his normal morning ritual with his multitasking. Draco didn't see anything wrong in getting up at 8 and leaving his room finally at 8:50.
"Draco." His mother greeted him in the dinning room.
"Mother." He retorted, kissing her on both cheeks before seating himself at his father's old seat at the table.
Draco waited, but when no house elf came with a menu for breakfast he took in his mother more poignantly. She was across the table staring at him, quite intensely.
"How are you feeling?" She asked with her normal Malfoy coldness.
"Fine, thank you mother." He came back with. "Mother-,"
"You sure?" her eyes seemed to try to dissect him.
"Yes. And you, how are you feeling this morning?" Malfoy asked a little more than confused.
"Yes, yes." She fumbled.
There was no grace in this conversation, no aristocracy in actually, truly incurring into ones state.
"Mother-," Malfoy tried again to ask about breakfast, but was cut off.
"You were born at 11 in the morning this very day, 17 years ago." She said almost sadly.
"Oh?" Was all the blond prince could think to say.
There was another long silence that was interrupted by a very undignified growl from Malfoy's stomach. The woman in front of Draco looked up at the sound and seemed to come out of her thoughts.
"I've let the house elf have a day off for today." As if that explains everything. Why? burned on the tip of the young mans tongue.
Then another question came to the forefront of his mind. Where are the presents? They always sit waiting for me on the table. I open the ones form distant (less noble) family members, that wouldn't be at the party, when I eat breakfast.
There was no way some of his distant (unruly) cousins were invited this year or any year. They'd make him a fool in the eyes of the upper class.
"It's just going to be you and I today, Draco." She said reluctantly.
Draco just blinked.
"Time has creped up on me." She said looking at something far away just over his shoulder.
The only thing stopping Draco from leaving the table and getting his own food was that lack of dignity in the act. So he sat and suffered his mother's less then coherent banter, while he starved.
A grandfather clock began to ring. It echoed and Draco noted his mother's agitation. She was fixated on the chimes. She counted them aloud and lifting a finger up from her clench fist at the end of each clang. Finally the clock ended, it's last ring echoing.
"9." The woman said and put her hands down.
"Mother-," The frustrated blond tried again.
"I know you were looking forward to a large party. What with this being your 17th and everything." She didn't look up from the now fascinating tablecloth.
Draco made a point of sitting straighter in his chair. Has all grace left her because her husband in locked up?!
"But this is a sensitive time, or will be at 11." She trailed off.
An undignified huff left the princes mouth.
"What do you know about Veela, Draco?" She said curtly, catching his huff.
"Veela?" Narcissa gave him a hard look upon hearing his insolent ton, "They are magical creatures that are extremely possessive of their mates, if they ever find them. They are aggressive, and dreadfully attractive to everyone, but their mate. The power of their beauty can bend the will of others to that of the Veela's." Draco had personally fell in love that the idea of that much power, the possibilities, he thought momentarily forgetting his mothers attitude and indulged in a daydream of people fawning over him.
"Yes, there is more than that, but you've a fare idea."
"Mother?" He prompted.
"Draco, I'm a Veela." She said bluntly. "Your fathers absence for this time in your life couldn't have been more welcome since I never told him I was. He was not my true mate, but socially I was pushed to marriage." Her face dropped visibly as she continued, "I never found him..." And again she looked off to the distance just over her sons shoulder.
Draco's face was scrunched in confusion, "What about my-," he tried getting out.
"You see Draco on your 17th birthday, the hour you were born more precisely you inherit your Veela traits."
Draco's hunger was completely forgot, while a new hunger showed itself. A hunger to know more!
"It's a burden." His mother said suddenly and with complete sorrow.
His daydream washed away as she became abruptly more serious and more sullen.
"You feel empty all the time without your other half."
It took everything Malfoy had not to scoff at this. He wouldn't need some damn 'other half.' He was strong in his independence. His mother must have seen where his thoughts were leading him for she let out a hiss.
"Draco!" She scolded only to stop, "Never the mind. You shall see in-,"
The clock rang out once, announcing half passed.
"An hour and a half."
Draco felt a shiver run down his back, that's creepy.
True to the theme of the conversation, Narcissa stood abruptly and motioned for Draco to follow. He recognized the path she was leading him on. They were on the way to the library. Ignoring his mothers listing of book titles, Draco fell back into his imaginings.
After he gets his wild Veela charms he can throw a party and have his presents. With the crowed eating out of his hand. He'd be named the best host and redeem his family name to the upper crust of the wizarding world.
"Draco!"
"Yes, I know." He grumbled.
He was in the library, some ways at the back too by the looks of it.
"Sit." She commanded.
Doing as he was told he sat in front of a desk where his mother had indicated to.
Narcissa pulled out her wand. With a flick of her wrist and the magical words 3 tomes came out of the high bookcase beside them. Each tome was laid out in front of Draco. Another flick and the echo of his mothers voice was cut short by the thud of the first book opening and magically flipped to the, supposed, right page.
"You will not heed my warnings to take this seriously, so, I wash my hands of you, Draco. Learn! Soak up all the collected knowledge wizards have collected and placate yourself with second and third account information."
And with that she stormed from the library. Wearily Draco thought about how he'd gotten here, to this section of the library and how to then get back out. The room was magicaled to be larger that the house was. Book shelved towered over Draco and his sitting perspective did nothing to down play the sheer size of the room.
"Brilliant." Draco sneered and got to it.
The books held no cryptic notes he'd heard in his mother's tone, and gushy mate business was easily skipped. Draco was never one for wasting time.
Draco was still engrossed with the first book when his mother's voice startled him.
"It's almost time." She said simply.
She's still smarting from my treatment of her, he thought to himself as he took in her forced calm expression.
"Time. Right." Draco said lamely.
Standing he found his joints achy and there was still that rumble in his stomach he just re-noticed.
"Is there time to eat?" He asked looking from his stomach to his mother's impassive face.
"You'll thank me for not having anything in your stomach when it's done with." She said turning and that was the end of any more discussion.
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"Draco," Pansy Parkinson whimpered at his ear. "Why didn't I get an invitation to your 17th?" She pouted.
The blond Slytherin turned from the needy girls face. Across from him sat Crabbe and Goyle. By the cabin door Blaise Zabini found a niche of his own.
Blaise hadn't taken his eyes off of Draco since they set off form the train station. A contemplative face, with hints of frustration in the brows replaced his normal unreadable mask.
"I just didn't have a birthday party, ok?" Draco growled.
No, he hadn't had a party. Not after that fuck-all of an inheritance. He felt ripped apart and placed back together wrong, with a fucking chunk missing.
He had spent the rest of the summer vaca looking through his mother's tomes for anything and everything. They truly were the best. He took a venture through his father's collection and only in a Magical Creatures text did find but a 3-sentence blurb on Veela.
"But I got you a most wonderful present, Draco." She said suggestively.
Draco was struck with a flutter in his stomach, not for the first time since barding the train. A presence, outside of the cabin they sat in, called to him.
Then suddenly it became too wrong to have Pansy sprawled on him. Draco quickly gave her a firm shove before his eyes met emerald green ones through the window leading to the hallway outside the cabin.
His breath hitched and could feel the raven-haired boy do the same before they both looked away, anywhere else, with a snap of the neck.
"Draco?" Pansy's cries and complaints couldn't have been further away from him.
Unbenounced to Draco, Blaise had seen the whole affair.
You've read now please review.