Disclaimer: Gratitude and credit goes to JK Rowling for creating Harry Potter. No profit is being made on this story.
Author's Note: As of June 2014, chapter five contains NEW MATERIAL. All chapters have minor content changes and some structural reorganization.
CHAPTER ONE: Boy Meets Girl
"So... how'd it go?" Dianne Reed grimaced at the question. So much for her early-morning resolution to have a wonderful day. Nonetheless, she answered Catherine as she joined her friend for breakfast.
"It was detention with Scorpius Malfoy. How do you think it went?"
Catherine Richardson choked on her tea, turning to regard her fellow Ravenclaw. "Scorpius Malfoy?"
"Yeah."
"He didn't give you any trouble, did he?"
"No. Pretty much ignored me the whole night. It was odd though- he was odd I mean."
"Odd for a teenaged boy or odd for a snotty Slytherin pureblood?"
"Both. He didn't taunt me at all. In fact, he didn't say much of anything until he fell off the ladder."
"Wait! He fell off a ladder?" Again, Dianne grimaced at the question, remembering the previous night.
"Yeah. We were cleaning the dungeon ceilings, scrubbing off the smoke and he overreached. I was on the ground at the time, rinsing out my rag, and I sort of caught him as he fell. But he acted all weird. He... I don't know… He jerked, like I'd shocked him or something. And then when I asked if he was okay, he just nodded vaguely. He watched me a lot after that, mostly when he thought I wasn't looking. It was very disturbing."
"And he didn't say anything?"
"After Filch dismissed us, we walked to the main corridor together. Don't give me that look- it was so not my idea." Dianne's outburst earned her an eye roll from Catherine, so she continued. "Anyways, as I turn to head for the stairs, he sticks out his hand and introduces himself. And not his usual 'I'm Scorpius Malfoy, everyone get out of my way' introduction. I think he meant to just be polite."
"So what'd you do?"
"Well I wasn't about to be the rude one. I just shook his hand real quick, gave him my name and bid him goodnight."
"What'd he say then?"
"Nothing. Just stood there staring at me like I was some sort of very interesting phenomenon. I think he wanted to say something, because he took a deep breath, but then he just sort of nodded to me and I nodded to him and walked away as fast as was polite. I looked back when I turned the corner and he was still there, staring at me. For all I know he's still standing there now."
"Creepy."
"You're telling me!" For a moment the two friends just ate, content to sit together one last time before they went their separate ways for winter break. Although they were both Muggleborn, it was unusual for them to visit each other except during summer. At last, Catherine broke the silence to satisfy her aroused curiosity.
"When you say he jumped, like you'd shocked him, what do you mean?"
"You know static-electric shock, like after you've dragged your feet on the carpet? He jerked back like I'd given him a zap, but I didn't feel anything."
"Think it was his 'I'm a pureblood, you're beneath me; don't soil my robes' type of thing?"
"No, I'm used to that by now. It was actually more a look of interest than disinterest. Whatever. I'm over-analyzing."
"You're right. We need a life." Catherine gave a grand sigh.
"What part of 'Ravenclaws' makes you think we need any social skills past the most basic ability to speak English?" Dianne replied scathingly. Catherine laughed, recognizing her friend's vitriol as the result of poor sleep coupled with an early morning.
"Communication? Not important?" Catherine adopted her best scandalized face. "This from Miss Dianne Reed? Champion of the Berkley Congress Invitational, foreign correspondent and pen-pal coach of a 3-time TOC finalist…"
"…enough, enough, enough! I can't believe I let you talk me into explaining all that to you—you've never let me live it down!"
"You should be proud!"
Dianne dismissed the praise with wave of her egg-laden fork. "I'm not Josh's only coach."
"You're the one he keeps naming on the awards paperwork."
"That's just Josh. He knows none of the others can argue with him picking his cousin, and he knows I won't get a big head about it. For him, naming me is his way of telling Juan to stick it."
"Whatever. It's still way impressive."
"You're just saying that because you're hoping I'll mention this very disturbing conversation to Derek."
"What, can I help it if your cousins are hot?"
"You can keep your thoughts to yourself. Derek and Josh are practically my brothers!"
"And I'm like a sister to you, so why not make it official?"
"Derek is 19- three years older than either of us."
"Which means he's mature. Besides, I'm seventeen. That makes me an adult."
"A wizarding adult. And are we talking about the same Derek Reed?" This got another laugh out of Catherine.
"Mrs. Catherine Reed. Yep, I think I like it."
"Well I think you should stick with Miss Catherine Richardson for another year and a half until you graduate."
"Whatever you say, Miss Dianne Reed." The friends giggled, returning their primary attention to breakfast, knowing the three-hour train ride was not a good time to be hungry, especially with the over-priced, insubstantial the trolley food.
"Miss Reed?" Both girls jumped, twisting in their breakfast seats to look at Deputy Headmistress Weasley, who was standing just behind them.
"Yes Ma'am?"
"Come with me please." The Ravenclaws exchanged glances as the surrounding seats quieted. Catherine raised an eyebrow in silent question, but Dianne could only shrug in equal confusion. The professor moved away, and Dianne scrambled to rise from the bench, collect her purse, and follow after her.
"See you on the train." Dianne offered hurriedly.
"Yeah. See you."
Deputy Headmistress Katie Weasley paused in the corridor outside the Great Hall to wait for her charge, standing out of the flow of traffic. When Dianne Reed exited the hall and hurried over, she couldn't help but feel her heart go out to the younger girl. She didn't hesitate, though, before moving towards Ravenclaw Tower once Reed had caught up.
"Where are we going?" That was typical of Reed—always practical, and rarely intimidated.
"Your dorm, so that you can change into formal robes, and then the Headmaster's office."
"I'm sorry, formal robes?"
"Yes."
"I'm afraid I don't own any." The Deputy Headmistress stopped, studying her student. Despite her wording, Reed seemed defensive rather than sorry. "The only robes I own are my school uniforms. As today is the beginning of Christmas Break, I was under the impression that there was no requirement for the uniform. My fashion has never been a problem in past years." Reed remained steady under her professor's searching gaze, holding her ground without arrogance. After a short pause, she continued. "What would I need formal dress robes for?"
The Deputy Headmistress didn't answer immediately, taking in Reed's wardrobe with a critical eye. The silver turtleneck sweater was form-fitting, but not immodest; the black-washed jeans were likewise stylish and classy, with silver stitching. The black Patten heels, black glass jewelry and satin headband dressed up the look even further. None of this, however, made it any less Muggle. In the end, it didn't matter. Time was of the essence, and there was simply no alternative—a school uniform would be seen as equally tasteless. So she thinned her lips and dodged the question. "Very well then, this will have to do."
"Professor, am I in trouble?"
"No Miss Reed, you are not." Reed did not follow her when she walked away, forcing her to stop and turn back.
"If I'm not in trouble, why am I needed in the Headmasters office?"
"I'm afraid it is not my place to explain it." And that was the complete truth. As much as she would have liked to brace Reed for what was coming, she could not do so. She worried, truthfully, how Reed would take the news, but there was nothing she could do to soften it, or to affect the situation. She was just a teacher, and a half-blood. Reed weighed the words carefully, studying the deputy headmistress as thoroughly as she had been studied earlier. Then, with a nod of wary acceptance, she followed her professor to the gargoyle and watched as the thing moved aside at the password.
"They are expecting you, Miss Reed." Professor Weasley said, gesturing to the staircase.
"You're not coming." It was not really a question, but it did require a response.
"I have no place in these proceedings." Reed hesitated only a moment more, before climbing the no-longer revolving staircase.
As Dianne climbed the stairs, she had a strange sense of foreboding that was almost déjà vu. She remembered being much younger as her father explained that no adult ever had any right to make her feel uncomfortable, that as a minor she had the right to demand that any door stay open, and that if anyone ever made her uncomfortable she had the right to ask for another teacher to be present. Absently, she wondered if that still applied now that she was only a few months from being 17, an adult in the eyes of the wizarding world, or if such protections had ever existed in this legal system. The recollection unsettled her enough that she allowed herself a moment's pause before the large door, taking a single composing breath before she knocked.
The headmaster hailed her to enter immediately, reminding Dianne of the deputy's haste and impatience. The door was heavy, but slid open easily enough. As the door cleared her line of vision, she quickly took in the office. Having been a model student, but not the topmost of her class, she had never had a reason to be here before.
To the far right were bookshelves, and standing in front of them was Professor Zabini, Head of Slytherin House. Headmaster Flitwick's desk, organized but full of papers and unidentifiable objects, was directly across from the door, and behind it was the Headmaster himself, sitting framed by a wall of portraits. A glance left revealed cluttered shelves and three more people. Scorpius Malfoy, a man who could only be his father Draco Malfoy, and a rather plain woman—(his mother?)—were all seated together, Scorpius between the adults.
"You summoned me?" Dianne had never been more thankful for her speech competitions than in that moment when her voice did not shake or falter, and her eyes naturally found the Headmaster's.
"Yes, of course. Please, come in, sit." There were two open seats: one in the middle, next to Draco Malfoy, and one on the far right, near where Professor Zabini was standing.
"With all due respect, I would prefer to stand." And it was the absolute truth. Standing in heels, in comfortable, dressy, Muggle clothes gave her a sense of surety which would be lost the moment she sat down, outnumbered four—five?—to one. No one seemed eager to respond to that, as if each of them was measuring her response carefully. Dianne immediately took advantage of the silence. "What, if I may ask, is going on? Deputy Headmistress Weasley declined to comment except to say I was not in trouble." The formal wording was also natural, safe, and ingrained. It felt a bit like home, to be using her competition persona again.
The question was for the Headmaster, but she focused on the Malfoys' reactions, as they were clearly the other party in this drama. Draco Malfoy was a completely closed book, staring at her intently. The woman—Mrs. Malfoy?—was obviously worried, glancing between her and Scorpius, the professors, resting her gaze back on Scorpius. Her classmate, for his part, was pale and sickly looking, far worse than she remembered from the previous night. He was watching her, jaw set, and was sitting perfectly still. It seemed he was holding onto a great deal of some unidentifiable emotion. A glance at Professor Zabini showed him staring at the Headmaster, who was staring at Malfoy Sr. Just as Dianne was about to return her gaze to Draco Malfoy, who appeared to be running this show, Professor Zabini spoke.
"What do you know of Veela?" The question completely derailed Dianne's train of thought, and she felt herself shift, cocking one knee and the opposite shoulder to gain herself a second of thought.
"Not much. Mostly just that they are one of the main controversies in the new reform laws. Veela are widely accepted by wizarding society where others, such as werewolves, are not. The controversy is especially intense surrounding a difficulty in unbiased distinction except by explicit classification. I know they've been used to attack a lot of the old laws, and that the more… conservative factions have trouble even fielding attacks against them. The majority of all factions agree on their personhood, more than is behind any other being."
"What do you know of them academically? Attributes, characteristics?" Dianne had suspected that was the nature of the original question, and was now forced to admit outright:
"Next to nothing, sir." Silence permeated the office, and Dianne assessed the others again: they were mostly unchanged, except Draco now looked thoughtful and worried. Scorpius, for his part, appeared ready to faint, or have a seizure, or both.
"Miss Reed, I think you'd best sit down. This will be a long discussion." It was Draco Malfoy who spoke with a crisp air of command, and while Dianne was satisfied to have drawn him into the power play, she wasn't comfortable bending to his assumed authority.
"The train is leaving in less than half an hour."
"You will be Portkeying to London." Headmaster Flitwick this time, gesturing toward the middle chair. So she was out-numbered five to one. Vaguely, as she took the offered seat, she wondered if she should insist on someone else being there, but no particular professor sprang to mind fast enough for her to speak before Draco entered the silence.
"I realize we have never been formally introduced. I am Draco Malfoy, this is my wife, Astoria Greengrass Malfoy, and our heir, whom you know, Scorpius." Dianne nodded, both in agreement and in greeting. "I realize, Miss Reed, that you must be confused," a natural result of dodging questions and this ridiculous power play! "but please, bear with me. I promise, I will explain everything in time."
"In what time, if I may? My cousin is expecting me to meet him in London at 12 noon."
"That will not be a problem." Again, bland assurances from the Headmaster, and then Draco continued as though neither of them had spoken.
"Veela are, as is being debated and as you insinuated, a species quite close to human. Some would say more than human, others insist less. But it is a moot point, because a Veela is both the man and the Veela—two pieces of a single being." Dianne nodded, understanding. Her research into werewolves showed similar effects. The wolf could want one thing while the man wanted another. The emotional tug-of-war was more distinct than in a normal human, but it was not much different than one arguing with one's conscience. It did not make them inherently more or less of a person.
"There was a time when families were honored to be inter-married with Veela, since there exist many magical and physical advantages to even dormant Veela blood." Again, this followed with what she had seen of pureblood arrogance. She showed no reaction; meeting Malfoy's eyes squarely as he continued in his steady, sure tone.
"Even blood diluted over several generations is enough to cause significant… effects." Clearly, they were approaching the heart of the topic. Malfoy was choosing his words more carefully, like a second constructive speaker looking for the perfect hook to end on. "Veela are creatures of fire—of passion." Again, a pause while he considered her and she considered him. Neither could discern anything. He was still worried, but hiding it. She was still wary, but determined to be in control of herself.
"One manifestation of that passion is Veela mating. Every Veela has a true mate, usually close to them in age and magically powerful. For a Veela, the mate is all-important. A Veela must have its mate's love to survive, and in order to secure that love, everything the Veela does is focused on the mate's happiness and acceptance. There is nothing the Veela will not do for its Mate." Another pause, but Dianne had no reaction. No nod, no assessing stare. She was simply gazing at Malfoy, begging this all to make sense in any way but the obvious. She searched for some other reason for them to have called her here so urgently and explain the facts so carefully.
"The Veela generally awakens sometime soon after a witch or wizard's seventeenth birthday, and once roused the Veela becomes increasingly desperate to identify their mate."
She needed time to process the evidence before her. "What if the mate is never found?"
"Without a mate, for any reason, the Veela has no reason to live. They will develop headaches, dizziness and other physical symptoms in the short term, eventually progressing into a coma, and death. There are also severe emotional implications, particularly in response to rejection from or uncertainty regarding the Mate."
Pursue the line of inquiry. Control the cross-examination. Debater's instincts, and the only part of her still fully functioning. "For any reason. Meaning, if, for example, a Veela's mate was already married…"
"The Veela will not—cannot—be the cause of its mate's unhappiness. There have been cases of Veela choosing suicide rather than risking their mates' displeasure." A long pause. Dianne couldn't help but feel trapped. There was only one real reason to explain all this to her.
"And how does a Veela know its mate?" An unimportant question, but a chance for her to examine the stage and tactics they had chosen, shifting through everything that had been said, and what had not yet been stated. Why not just say it outright? What was gained by the run-around explanation?
"A Veela first identifies its mate through smell, and will then confirm their instinct with touch. The Veela always knows."
"So when I caught Malfoy, he… chose me as his mate?" The elder Malfoy blinked, surprised, and Scorpius drew a deep, labored breath. Mrs. Malfoy had reached over to put one hand on Scorpius' shoulder, and was covering her mouth with the other. The Headmaster was simply watching, still, while Professor Zabini took a step forward in worry. Had they assumed she wouldn't understand? There was a long moment of uncomfortable silence before Draco Malfoy answered her.
"Chose is… not quite accurate. You were already his mate before the fall, and would have remained so had events occurred differently. But you are correct in a sense—it was last night that Scorpius identified you."
The girl—young woman—stood abruptly, turning away from the Malfoy family to pace to the end of the Headmaster's desk and back, restless. He drew breath to speak again—to fill the heavy silence—but she interrupted him before he had decided more to say.
"I just… need a moment." She rubbed her temples with her thumb and middle finger, then crossed her arms firmly in front of her chest, and froze, staring out the window that was nestled amongst the bookshelves. A quick look at his son told Draco exactly what her silence was doing to him. He was shaking with the effort to remain seated and silent, staring at her with hungry eyes. Scorpius had been a Veela for almost 7 months now. He was fragile from searching for so long, and yet Draco could not push Dianne Reed. Not only would his son never forgive him if he hurt her in any form, but (much worse) it could drive her away.
When she turned back to them, Draco was shocked. Her posture had returned to the self-assured confidence she had possessed when she entered. Her face showed none of what he was expecting—no confusion, no worry, no happiness or surprise. It was completely professional. She met Scorpius' eyes squarely, the first time she had truly acknowledged his presence.
"What happens now?" The question was clearly directed at his son, but Scorpius was in no shape to respond. Flitwick intercepted the question from him.
"If you accept the bond, arrangements will be made. You will need to spend a great deal of time together; these past seven months have been very difficult for Scorpius."
"Arrangements?" The way Reed interrupted the headmaster did not feel rude, despite the disrespect inherent in the action. "You mean during the break?"
"Further separation now, at the beginning of the bonding and after so long a search would be extremely ill-advised. The Veela would almost certainly see it as a rejection, regardless of your intent." Was there a hint of accusation in Blaise's voice? Whether intended or not, Scorpius had noticed the unspoken criticism and was glaring at his god-father. For the Veela to have interpreted that as an attack on his mate meant that his son was in a truly delicate state. Reed hadn't looked away from Scorpius yet, except a single glance towards Flitwick when she had interrupted him, and must surely have seen the reaction.
"Christmas is the single most important time of the year for my family and myself. Missing any of it would be ill-advised, especially as my father doesn't want me dating for another two years at least." Her scathing tone was clearly meant to parry Zabini's attack, and coupled with her word choice it certainly made her opinion clear, if not subtle.
Scorpius met her gaze squarely, "I am not asking…" but left the objection hanging as he realized she did not appear to be angry with him, and had raised a hand for silence.
"I wasn't finished. Being separated from my family is less than ideal, yes. But separation from you seems to be much more than just 'ill-advised'. Forgive me, but you look like death warmed over and suffering a caffeine withdrawal," as though that was a coherent thought "and if this is how far you've slipped in the few hours since last night, I don't see you surviving three days apart, let alone three weeks."
Her rough estimates weren't far off, actually. It was a terrifying thought, but not actually a dangerous situation, yet. Unless she rejected him. Draco went cold just thinking about it.
"I wasn't…" she faltered, seeming to decide another wording was better. "If this is going to work, we need to have open, honest communication. Neither of us can make the best possible decision if we are in the dark." She was still addressing Scorpius directly. He nodded, and she continued. "My family isn't going to like it, but I do believe they will understand and we can reach some compromise. The first ten days of vacation are especially crucial, until December 27th. If it necessary that we spend the entire time together, I propose that the first half—until that Sunday—is spent with my family, in the Muggle world and the last eleven days—including New Years—is spent with your family, in your traditions."
Scorpius nodded again, though it wasn't clear if this was meant to convey agreement or comprehension. Draco felt himself relax marginally. It seemed that Reed was going to accept Scorpius, and at the very least she was not out-right rejecting him. He had been warned, and had worried that she would resist the situation on some Muggle principle—Muggleborn standards of propriety were so odd—but it seemed she was able to set aside any of that nonsense which might be interfering.
"Malfoy…" she trailed off, seeming to realize the error in using only their family name with all three of them present. "Scorpius," she started again, voice level and calm, "relationships are about communication. If you have any other ideas or solutions, please tell me."
Scorpius shook his head, saying weakly "That sounds more than reasonable." Draco was unsurprised, knowing from personal experience that Scorpius would have gladly abandoned the Malfoys altogether if Reed had asked it of him. She studied Scorpius for another short moment—did she have any idea of the power she held over his son?—before turning to Draco himself.
"Do you see any plausible alternatives?" That surprised him even further. Reed not only seemed to understand that Scorpius would never disagree with her while the bond was so tentative, she also apparently did not wish to take advantage of that fact.
There were several alternatives, but none that needed to be discussed at that moment. "As Scorpius said, your proposal is likely the best solution." Reed nodded, shifting her weight slightly. Draco was surprised to realize it was not a fidget, despite how long she'd been standing, but an almost conscience shift in her stance, moving her center of balance purposefully into a more casual posture.
"I will need to call my parents, to warn them to expect a houseguest. The sooner I can make that call, the better. My mum tends to be… overenthusiastic… when she hosts, and she'll be stressed enough about my Uncle and his family coming over." She addressed this concern to Headmaster Flitwick. He nodded, as though he had expected this.
"Scorpius will need a Muggle wardrobe, and it would likely be best that his introduction to the Muggle world as a whole not be on your doorstep. I propose a shopping trip in greater London, where you will be able to use a payphone, as a solution to all these issues." Dianne nodded, before returning her attention to Draco. She was still calm and controlled, but now she was… uncomfortable?... as well. At least, she was more wary than she had been.
"Forgive me, but… with what money? Harrods doesn't take galleons." Smart girl! And very quick too—not always the same thing, smart and quick—that currency was her first concern. She seemed to want to say something else—something truly awkward, so he saved her the trouble. She had handled herself and the situation admirably thus far, there no reason to force her to lose face now.
"I have already been to Gringotts and set up a Muggle account. They gave me a…debt card" he tried not to stumble over the unfamiliar phrase, "to use." It hadn't been easy to navigate the Muggle-relations portion of the wizarding bank, but it was worth it to have dealt with the issues earlier this morning instead of waiting. He suspected that he had mispronounced the phrase, because she showed the first hint of amusement as she nodded, this time using the motion to hide and control a slight smile.
"Very good, then." She gave another glance around the room, taking them all in. "Will you be coming with us?" Astoria jumped on that one, as though she honestly thought his disgust for shopping would be enough to cause him to abandon Scorpius in a completely unfamiliar world.
"Of course! We would like to get to know you, of course, and really, you shouldn't be wondering around London on your own…" This did earn a smile, an actual smile, from Reed.
"Of course." It was then that the Headmaster indicated that the train had left and they could proceed to the front gates of the school for their Portkey. After a moment of concern over her luggage—Reed was assured that it would be delivered to her home that night by a house elf, which caused a reaction he couldn't qualify—they all rose to walk down to the edge of the wards. On the way, Reed seemed to go through a sort of mental check list, asking questions of the Headmaster.
Her first concern was over information. Evidently, her uncle and cousins, whom she was very close to, would be staying with them for the entire three weeks, and she didn't see how she could explain the situation with Scorpius without first explaining magic and thereby (technically) breaking the statue of secrecy. She was assured that, not only was word-of-mouth not closely monitored and even less carefully enforced, but also that she would be excused legally because the situation involved a Veela mating.
This led into a series of quick legal questions. What would happen if her father did not approve of the…she stumbled over the word…union? She was incredibly surprised to hear that, as a Veela's chosen, she could be automatically emancipated if she so wished it. Would that emancipation include a lift on the limitations of what magic she could perform on holiday? Technically, it would, but the Headmaster reminded her that she would be 17 anyways by summertime, and the paperwork would not go through in time for this winter break as it was, so it was a moot point. She asked if that emancipation would also be legal in the Muggle world, to which she received a noncommittal answer that was basically an admission of ignorance. The Ravenclaw certainly understood how to control and exploit a line of conversation. Finally, the Headmaster turned the conversation back on her.
"Do you anticipate your father being so much trouble?"
"No. Certainly not—he will be surprised, but I don't see him trying to keep us apart unless he were to be concerned for my safety or something equally extreme. However, the wizarding legal system is… fascinating." Draco was fairly certain that was not the word she truly wished to use. By this time, however, they had reached the gate and stopped just outside it, on the road towards Hogsmeade. Flitwick held out the Portkey, a simple hoop of wood, and Draco accepted it. It would take them to an alley just behind King's Cross station, near where the hidden apparition point was. Astoria and Scorpius each laid a hand on it when he held it out, and after a moment's hesitation Reed did as well. He couldn't blame her for not liking Portkey travel. He would have much preferred to floo, but this was simpler since there was no convenient floo in that area of London.
He gave the activation phrase a moment later, and heard a soft shout from across the circle. It seemed Reed really didn't like Portkeys. As he bumped shoulders with Astoria, he was reminded why he could not blame the young woman.
Scorpius Malfoy was not having a good day. Despite the fact that he had finally—finally!—found his mate and despite the fact that this should have been the first good day since the start of school, when his condition had begun deteriorating even more rapidly, Scorpius Malfoy was not having a good day.
Dianne Reed was a Muggleborn, sixth year Ravenclaw whom he had rarely interacted with, and since the previous evening, she had been the only idea he could truly focus on. In tandem with his increasingly obsessive thoughts, his headache and shakes had progressed into a migraine, fatigue, dizziness, cramps, and an incredible ache across his shoulders.
Seeing her this morning had helped his physical symptoms, of course. He had even managed to walk somewhat steadily to the edge of the wards to Portkey. The Veela, however, was even more awake and anxious in her actual presence—examining every detail of her very attractive body language and careful demeanor.
Scorpius understood her wariness and caution on an intellectual level, especially considering his reputation, but as a Veela, he could feel impending panic on account of her obvious lack of enthusiasm.
When the Portkey landed, Scorpius was careful as always to absorb the impact in his heels first, bending his knees for further balance. Dianne, however, was less coordinated. Veela instinct let him catch her—bracing her with an arm around her waist and a hand at her elbow—before he consciously realized it was necessary. The position felt natural; she fit into his arms perfectly. Additionally, he felt the tension in his shoulders ease and the buzzing in his ears began to quiet at her proximity.
Knowing he could not risk showing his desperation and scaring her away—this had been drilled into him since midnight the night before when he had tried to convince his godfather to have Deputy Weasley wake Dianne immediately—he began to release her. She stopped him by laying her hand over the one resting on her elbow. At her voluntary skin-to-skin contact, the Veela quieted completely for the first time in months, and his migraine retreated into a headache. Scorpius closed his eyes, automatically relaxing and breathing deeply as his Veela instinct began to all but purr in pleasure.
Dianne shifted then, gathering her feet under her more securely and turning away from the arm supporting her across her back. Scorpius opened his eyes quickly, studying her reaction. She was watching him just as carefully as she had in the headmaster's office, and he knew that she would not be fooled.
"Thank you." She offered quietly, almost distractedly as she absorbed her observations. He nodded, throat dry and tight, relieved that she seemed to be taking this with the same calm factualism she had accepted everything else.
"You're welcome." The words came out much quieter than he'd intended—even quieter than hers—but she heard him regardless.
"Scorpius, I have absolutely no facts about Veela outside of what I have recited and been told since breakfast. I need you to talk to me, to tell me the truth. You can't assume that I know what you need."
Scorpius said nothing. He could hear the council of Professor Flitwick and Deputy Weasley, offered as his parents and godfather had struggled with how to explain the mating to Dianne. He had been warned of the different standards in the Muggle world—that the acceptable was scandalous and yet the scandalous commonplace. He had been warned that there would be miscommunication, that Dianne would likely balk long before they'd even finished explaining the mating. And now, less than an hour after she had first heard an explanation of Veela, he was going to have to try to navigate that culture gap and address topics he had been advised to avoid. Would this be the issue that broke her control? She seemed to gather a lot more than he intended from his silence.
"You don't just need to be close to me." The hand that covered his moved it from her elbow, and she held it gently in her own, carefully rubbing her thumb along the back of his hand. A shiver ran from that contact throughout his body, and Scorpius was forced to close his eyes again, overcome by the rightness of her touch. The cramps in his legs were slowly easing into non-existence.
"You need touch, yes?" It was all he could do to nod in answer to her quiet question, trying not to melt with the sudden relief of pain. Her thumb stilled and he opened his eyes, barely aware that he was more vulnerable than he had ever been before. She held his gaze steadily, her dark green eyes carefully watching his pale blue ones. "What else?"
The Veela came back with a vengeance. A flash—betrayal, anger, pain, fear—was she playing him?—self-hatred—he had put her in this position—fury—how could his Mate do this—
She gripped his hand tighter for just a moment, somehow sensing his turmoil. She was still staring at him, expression voicing her questions, but Scorpius shook his head and broke eye contact, refusing to give voice to the monstrous thoughts.
"Scorpius." Merlin! The way she said his name… there was concern there, curiosity, compassion. She wasn't playing him. Her thumb resumed its circle, and between the surge of pleasure that brought and the echo of fear that followed—she was playing him!—he spoke.
"This isn't a game… there's no check list. You can't just go through the motions, and I won't ask you to. It has to be real. It's not fair to you to ask you to fake this, and it wouldn't satisfy the Veela anyways." He focused on the wall of one of the buildings near them, not seeing the graffiti or even registering his parents, watching the scene closely. His entire world consisted of Dianne's reaction, and the point where their two hands met, where her thumb was still stroking circles into the gooseflesh on the back of his hand.
"I'm not asking for a check list. I'm not going to jump just because you ask me to. But the fact remains that you are physically ill." She took a deep breath, and released it in a sigh. "I admit, I don't know what I think of a lot of this, and I won't until I have a chance to stop, consider it carefully, and talk about it with someone I trust. But I don't need to understand every detail about this situation to know that I don't want you to die, or to suffer more than you have to. I'm not blind, Scorpius. I saw how sick you were, but I thought that you just needed time. If I had known this would help, I would have done so immediately. Not because you asked me to, but because there is no reason for you to suffer like this."
Her voice remained calm and kind, without being condescending. He met her gaze again. "I don't have time to visit a library and do the legwork, Scorpius. What else do I need to know?"
In his mind, Scorpius was trying to remember everything they had decided needed to be censored from her, given to her one piece at a time so she could adjust. He compared the fragile girl he had pictured to the calm and collected young woman standing before him, and was struck dumb by the complete contrast between them. She took his silence for refusal.
"What are you afraid of?"
"This isn't going to work if you're fleeing in disgust." He hadn't meant to say it, or (if he had) he had certainly intended to paraphrase and soften his godfather's words. But she didn't flinch, didn't question, and didn't drop his hand.
"Granted. But you lying to me doesn't set a good precedent either. I need honesty, Scorpius. I need you to be frank and open." And he suddenly realized that she was vulnerable as well. She was hiding it magnificently—her stance, her tone, everything indicated composure and strength. But she was just as uncertain as he.
The Veela demanded he protect her, and if that meant honesty, so be it. He took a breath to respond, but Dianne wasn't finished. "I've had precious few straight answers today." And that too was the truth—since the time she'd entered the headmaster's office (and likely before) most of her questions had been answered with questions and long-winded talk. The least he could give her was the truth she should have been given from the start.
"I…" where to begin? "I need acknowledgement. Conversation and physical touch especially." She nodded, smiling.
"That seems natural enough for any relationship."
"The Veela will be very jealous, especially of any… competition. Even innocent friendships."
She was thoughtful a moment. "Both my cousins are like brothers to me, we are very close but not in any way romantically so… Will that be a problem?"
"I don't know. Siblings are accepted by the Veela as family, and I imagine that could apply to your cousins also, but they can be seen as competition, especially if…" Scorpius could feel himself blushing and cleared his throat, "well, if they are close, ah, physically."
"You mean that if I were to run to my cousin and hug him the moment I saw him it would make you very uncomfortable."
"Likely." More realistically, Scorpius would be hard-pressed not to tear his arms off.
"Alright, that's good to know. What you just said… 'accepted by the Veela as family'… what does that mean?"
"Your family is my family now, if they will have me. Just as you are now one of our family." Her eyebrows drew down in confusion, so Scorpius hurried on. "What I mean is, you will be treated like family. If you were to get into some sort of trouble, for example, you would have the full support of the Malfoy name."
"Which is why the headmaster brushed off my concerns about the statute."
"Well, yes and no. If the Veela accepts your cousins as family, they would be officially exempt from the statute same your parents are. And even if they weren't… well, there's a lot of precedent for extenuating circumstances when it comes to Veela mating." No wizarding legislature would be foolish enough to deny a newly bonded Veela anything.
"Since the consequences are so extreme, for the Veela?" Well that, and Veela had a habit of eliminating mating obstacles permanently.
"Yes." There was a pause, and he absently wondered when she had stopped massaging his hand. "I can't think of anything else." Or at least, nothing that was important for today. She smiled again, and Scorpius' heart quickened again.
"It's alright. I know there's probably a hundred other things that will need to be said eventually, but now isn't the time for all of them. We'll do a better job of communicating in the future." He grinned and her smile widened, showing her teeth finally instead of just the uplifted corners of her mouth. Scorpius couldn't remember her having ever smiled before. "Thank you for being honest."
"I'll remember that for the future."
"Good." She tossed her hair over her shoulder, shifting her stance as she did so, cocking her hip so that her posture was almost playful. In doing so, she shifted her grip on his hand so that they were now holding hands, fingers entwined. "Ready to face the world of Muggles?"
Scorpius could feel his face grimace despite his earlier resolution to show none of his disgust at the thought of Muggle London. She snorted slightly, almost like a silenced laugh. His father chose that moment to step toward them, reminding both teens of their audience. To her credit, Dianne did not blush or show any sign that she had actually forgotten their presence.
"I believe it would be best to transfigure your robes first." He saw that both of his parent's robes had already been transfigured, his father's into a suit and his mother's into a gown. Dianne appraised them critically, but said nothing, which he supposed meant they were passable. A moment later, they were ready to go.
"Where to?"
Dianne smiled at him. "Well, I need to find a payphone. There's probably one in the station that will still work. We'll start there." And so saying, she led him out of the alleyway by means of their still joined hands.
Dianne immediately approached a map posted on the wall, running her finger down an index of symbols, then across the map, before looking around. She led them to an odd metal box where she picked up a long object he had never seen before. It was vaguely banana shaped, with a bulge at each end. She held it up to her face, and then nodded once, replacing it. She glanced up at Scorpius, smiling, as she removed her hand from his. Her body language made the loss of touch more bearable than it would have otherwise been.
Immediately she dug in her shoulder bag, explaining why she needed both hands, and retrieved a large silver rectangle and a small black book. She pulled what appeared to be very thin sickles from the silver pouch, and fed them into the machine while she balanced the banana between her head and her shoulder. She leafed through the book, before pushing a combination of indentations on the metal box. She waited, tapping her foot, and Scorpius was about to try to shout over the noise of the station when Dianne straightened, covering her exposed ear with the hand that was still holding her black book.
"Yes, hello Derek. It's me, Dianne." She shouted into one end of the device. There was a pause.
"It's a long story." Pause.
"Listen, I need a huge favor."
"No, seriously, I'm calling in everything you owe me, including that term paper I wrote for you, and I'll still be indebted." A shorter pause. "Way." A longer pause.
"I need you to tell my mum that we are going to have another houseguest—he'll be rooming with you and Josh. Then I need you to meet me at Harrods."
She was studying something in her black book again as she talked. "We are going to take the tube, so we'll be there at 10:06 or so. Our shopping day has grown exponentially."
A much, much longer pause. "Like I said, it's a long story. And here's the thing, Derek." She took a deep breath. "All that, that's a normal favor. The big favor I'm asking is that you take a 13 hour rain check on your questions."
She covered her ear again as the noise in the station rose. "No…no…no…sort of. Please Derek, I need you to do this for me. It's not bad, exactly, but you'll understand it better if you see the evidence first, and then the conclusion…no…Alright, see you then… I promise… I love you too…bye." She hung the…whatever it was… back on its hook and put her things back in her bag, gesturing to the doors as she did so.
Once they had left the station and could be heard without shouting and could walk together without being restricted by the crowd, Dianne took Scorpius' hand again and began to lead them to the nearest intersection.
"What was that?" Scorpius was glad that his father had asked and spared him the trouble.
"It was a payphone. Nearly all households have a phone—which is the part I was talking into and hearing from—in their homes. Any phone can call any other, and two people can talk as though they were in the same room, even if they are across town or in separate countries."
"Really?" It sounded like floo calling, but without the floating head. She nodded, turning the corner and leading them toward a staircase that led under the ground.
"Derek, my older cousin, is going to meet us at Harrods. We are taking the underground—like a train, but faster, smoother, and typically only used within a smaller area—to meet him over there." They approached a bank of windows where men and women were waiting in line to purchase… paper?
Dianne purchased four of the papers, having to release his hand again to retrieve her silver pouch, from which she pulled a small, thin, stiff object. The object was slid through an oddly shaped box, and was then returned along with a long strip of paper and the four slips—tickets he realized—which she handed to each of them. Dianne gestured them towards a bench, explaining that they had a few minutes before their ride was due, but this time she did not stow away her things, having seen their open curiosity.
Instead, she sat down directly beside Scorpius, set her bag on her lap, and handed him the small rectangle that had earlier been used to purchase the tickets. "This is a debit card. It's electronically tied to a bank account, so that when a cashier swipes it, their machine reads the information printed on this part" she pointed to a long, black strip "and the business contacts a bank for the money. It keeps us from having to carry the money itself around. That card is worth about 300 British pounds. It's my emergency fund."
Scorpius handed her the card back numbly, wondering how much that was in galleons, although he didn't ask. She slid the card into a pocket that seemed designed for it and opened a smaller zippered pouch, dumping coins into his hands. "These are all much smaller denominations of money, most worth less than a pound." He nodded and she traded him the coins for colored papers with numbers and faces printed on them. "This is what we call cash, or paper money. The worth is printed in the corner." She gestured to the five in the corner of the one on top.
"What do you call that?" He asked, gesturing to the large pouch itself as he watched her fold the money into another cleverly constructed compartment. She glanced at him a moment, then back to her hands in her confusion.
"Uh… oh." She seemed to understand. "This is a wallet." She snapped it shut and gestured with it. "Well, technically it's a clutch, which is a type of wallet, since 'wallet' is pretty much what we use to refer to anything that is used to stow money and credit cards." Scorpius decided he liked this version of Dianne much better, now that she was sitting and more relaxed, rather than the formal and controlled persona she had had earlier.
She checked her watch as the space by the tracks in front of them began to fill up and gestured toward the gathering crowd, standing as she did so. Not a moment later a large, silver…thing… was in front of them. Doors opened, and there was a press of people getting on and off. Dianne pulled him forward, moving with the crowd, and he found himself in a thin, long room that was too white, lined with windows and benches, with poles scattered throughout.
"You're going to want to hang on." She told him, holding one of the rails above her head as she grinned at him. He warily held onto a pole as well, while both of his parents followed suit, looking puzzled. A moment later the door hissed shut and the floor jerked slightly. The windows were now useless as there was nothing to be seen but rushing lights.
After a moment of becoming accustomed to the rhythm of the car, which was much faster than the Hogwarts express but also smoother (as predicted), Scorpius felt bold enough to ask, "So, you call this a tube?"
She laughed at that, still grinning. Scorpius resolved to make her laugh much more often.
-Chapter End. 8,400 Words-
Author's Note:
First of all, thank you for reading this.
This story is now complete. Some minor edits may continue to appear as critiques are made and my writing matures.
This story is rated T for language (frustrated language, bigotry, etc.) and emotional intensity, not for anything that physically happens between Dianne and Scorpius. The focus of this story is a study in dealing with culture clash, prejudice and identity.
Thank you, Fyreheart for your description of Veela. I am using some attributes of Veela from the story DragonKin with permission.
Finally, this story underwent major revision in June of 2014. If you are a returning reader, most of the content is the same and the story can be read starting in Chapter 5, where new material first appears, without confusion. However, we recommend a complete re-read.
We remain yours,
Saphrae (and beta)
Edited for major revisions June 12, 2014.