A/N: There's something about this chapter that I rather dislike... I don't know what's wrong, just that it doesn't completely sit welll with me. Oh well, I'll get over it :). So, enjoy chapter two of Secrets!

When it all became too much, he rolled over and emptied his stomach on the floor of his bedroom. He grimaced when all he could do was dry-heave after a while. He felt miserable, and now his shoulders started to tingle, too. As if his day couldn't get worse. Just as he faced the clock again, an earth shattering scream filled the room. It only took him a few seconds to realise that he was the one who was screaming his lungs out. A cutting sensation ran through his body, and in a daze he realised that it focused on his shoulders. Fire crept along his shoulder blades, and Harry really was afraid for a moment that he was on fire. Rational thought stopped then and there, when something pushed against the skin of his shoulders. He screamed again, and tears dripped from under his eyelashes. He just wished the sensation would stop, and that he would be left alone. Wasn't it enough that he had defeated an insane Dark Lord? He sobbed, and when it felt as if his back was splitting in two, he finally tumbled into sweet oblivion.

Harry moaned when he woke up. Sunlight was pouring in, and he had to shield his eyes from the harsh glares it bestowed on him. He huffed and yawned. He looked at the clock and blinked. Two PM… How in the name of Merlin had he managed to sleep so long? After yawning yet again, he tried to roll out of bed, to find some clothes. But something promptly pulled him down, and he landed in a heap on the floor, while something was bended in a weird way. Suddenly he recollected the night before, and at once he dreaded to know what had happened. Still, curiosity made him glance behind, and for a moment everything seemed to stop. His breathing, his heart, even time. But then that moment passed, and everything seemed to go faster. This couldn't be right, and this definitely could not happen to him.

He had no recollection at all that his mother or his father had creature blood in them. For what he now spurted was most definitely not humanlike. White, fluffy wings lay crooked about him, and his first thought was to simply sit there, stunned. Then one trembling hand came up to brush against a wing. If he thought it wasn't real, then the sensation that ran through his body quickly managed to convince him otherwise. It was the weirdest sensation. The place he touched was connected to the rest of the wing, all the way to the shoulder and down his back. He tried to get up, and automatically stumbled over, while his wings fluttered to help him keep his balance. Some things were knocked over, and Harry stumbled over to his bedroom door. "I need Hermione," he murmured to himself. His brainy friend would probably know what was wrong with him. Well, maybe not wrong, but what the hell he had become.

Harry nearly fell down the stairs with his new appendages, and it was all he could do to stay upright. After nearly half an hour he finally reached the living room, and he knelt in front of the fire, while he threw Floo Powder in the fireplace. "The Burrow." The fire roared green, and Harry stuck his head in.

After only a minute, Ron walked inside his vision. "Ron! Could you please get Hermione for me? I need her for a moment."

Ron knelt in front of the fireplace with a frown. "Are you alright, mate? There's something different about your face… Did you do something."

Harry shook his head, barely registering Ron's words. "Would you please get her? There's something I need to talk to her about."

Ron just nodded, but still looked suspicious. "Just a second." He walked out of the room to search for his girlfriend.

Harry fidgeted, until he saw the familiar face of his friend. "Hermione. Could you please come on through. I have a bit of a problem…"

It looked as if she wanted to ask him a tonne of questions, so Harry added a "please?"

That did the trick, and Hermione nodded. Harry pulled away, and a few seconds later Hermione stood before him. When she looked up, it seemed that everything about her seemed to stop functioning. "Hermione, I need your help with this. How the hell can I have gotten wings in one day?"

Hermione stumbled over to the couch, and looked at Harry as if he was a special specimen. For all Harry knew, he could actually be. "Do you get my problem now?"

She nodded, dazed. But after a moment of recovery, she got up. "I guess you want to know what you are, correct?"

The dark haired teen nodded.

"Alright, alright. This happened this night?" After a confirming nod, she looked thoughtful. "An inheritance. It usually happens. But magical creature inheritances… Those are more rare. Oh, they do happen, but not that often." She studied the white wings, and walked behind Harry too look at them. "You should probably wipe the blood away. It doesn't look well on your feathers."

Harry tried to look over his shoulder, but couldn't see anything. "Hermione, how am I supposed to go to Hogwarts like this? I don't even know if they are retractable. For all I know they aren't!"

Hermione frowned. "Hush. I just need to study some things. There must've been passed down a certain gene… I have a spell for that, but I need to get back to perform it. Can I touch your wings?" She was itching to know how they felt, so she could compare them to her readings.

Harry shrugged, and the feathery mass shook lightly.

Entranced and ensnared she reached forward, and lightly traced the edge of the wing. The feathers were soft, and the skin under her hand was warm. After a final brush she walked back around and faced Harry, gently gripping his chin. "Your face has changed too. Can you see alright? You're not wearing your glasses…"

Harry blinked, and his hands automatically came up to touch the edge of his glasses, but his fingers didn't encounter anything. "I can see fine… But what's wrong with my face?"

Hermione hummed. "Nothing, really. You can barely see it. You just look more radiant somehow… I swear I've seen something like this before… But I need to look into a few books before I can be sure, and perform the spell to see what's hidden in the family." She gave him a hug. "I'll go and see what I can do for you."

Harry nodded. "Thanks, Hermione. You're a great friend."

She nodded. "Just don't think you're a freak or something, Harry. It's completely natural, even though it may not feel like it. I'll see what I can do. But please, don't do anything stupid like trying to saw them off."

Harry smiled a bit. "I won't, Hermione."

She nodded with a small smile. "Good. I'll be going, now. The faster we know what you are, the better. But, they do look nice."

The dark haired teen just shrugged, and gave a reluctant smile. "Maybe."

Hermione just nodded to herself, and grabbed some Floo Powder. "I'll be back tomorrow. Hopefully I'll be able to bring you some news."

This time Harry gave her a fleeting smile. "Thanks. You're really an amazing friend."

With a last smile she was lost in a sea of green.

Hermione truly came back the next day late in the afternoon.

Harry had a horrible night. After he had cleaned up the mess of that night, he'd crawled back into bed. And that's where the most uncomfortable thing happened. The only position he could sleep in was on his stomach. It wasn't a position he often laid in, so it was different. Different and damned annoying. After some squirming, he fell asleep with an arm tucked under his pillow.

After waking up at ten that morning, he had gotten downstairs to make some breakfast. He noticed that he kept his balance more easily, and even tried to flutter his wings on his own accord. It was nearly as if he had a different set of arms, yet it wasn't. He couldn't quite place the feeling.

After breakfast he walked out into the garden and sat down on the bench, arranging his wings so they wouldn't be pressed against the wood. It's where Hermione found him. Harry looked up when Hermione opened the back door and seated herself next to him.

"You have found something, then?" asked Harry, both afraid and ecstatic to know what he was.

"And how. I think you'll be surprised. I'll start with my findings of the spell I performed. Let me just say it wasn't what I expected. Sometimes, when a wizarding pair gives their child up for adoption, they'll appear as blots on the paper, just as the rest of the line, if they so desire. It can happen with pure-blooded parents who got a Squib as a child. And this is exactly what happened. Your mother's father wasn't a Muggle, but he was a Squib. And that makes all the difference, because the Veela gene you carry comes from you mother's line."

"I'm a Veela? How can I be a Veela? They are female, right?"

Hermione shook her head. "Which gets me to my second point. Yes, you are a Veela, and yes, they can be male. The gene can actually skip a few generations. It's a common misconception that Veelas are only female. It's just that male Veelas are a bit more rare. I have laid down a few books on the table inside. I'll tell you some things now, because I know you dislike reading."

This cracked a small smile out of the both of them. But Hermione turned serious quickly again. "Your wings are indeed retractable, so you don't have to worry about Hogwarts. Nobody will know unless you tell them as such, or when they see your wings. You're not going to like what I'm going to tell next, though. As you well know, female Veelas turn into bird-like creatures whenever they're mad or jealous. Well, male Veelas don't, but instead they have mates. And you're not going to like this at all, because you rely on your mate. You actually need them, no matter how much you deny it yourself."

Harry blinked, before he frowned. "What if that person is a total stranger? What if I've never seen them?"

Hermione smiled. "That won't happen. There is a kind of bond between the two of you. Even this early. And such a bond is connected to a person you know. Or at least see reasonably often. It's not as if your mate will be a person you've only seen once or twice in passing. No, it goes beyond that, really. And, also, your mate could basically be anyone in Hogwarts. Be it boy or girl."

Harry's face paled. "I think… I think I need some time alone, Hermione. Please? I'll read up on the books, but I think this has been more than enough information for me to take in." He sighed. "Nothing will ever go easy for me. Will it?"

Her kind brown eyes regarded him, and she gently laid down her hand on his shoulder. "Maybe. But maybe this could also be the happiness you deserve, in a weird way. The bond between a Veela and its mate is very deep, and consists of a lot of love. Just so you know, Harry. Fire Call me when you think you're ready to talk some more." With a supportive squeeze of her hand on his shoulder, she left.

Harry placed his elbows on his legs and put his face in his hands, nausea threatening to overwhelm him. Why did such things always get him? And his grandfather had been a Squib, adopted by Muggles? And thanks to the gene he carried, he was now turned into a Veela. A Veela who, according to Hermione, needed a mate. And that mate could be just about anyone in Hogwarts. Well, at least it would be a logical choice that his mate would be in Hogwarts, since he barely knew anyone outside of it. What if his mate was an eighth year, just like him, but didn't return to Hogwarts? What would happen? At least he knew his wings were retractable, so he could very nearly have a normal year. He looked up and grabbed a wing, stroking down the soft feathers. He hadn't actually looked in a mirror yet to see what his back would look like now. As he looked his wing up and down he figured it was about ten feet long and four feet wide, if not more. One could describe them as pretty, and Harry was rather fascinated how they could be so sensitive. It was still a foreign feeling, and moving them was something he definitely needed to learn. But somehow a small part of him knew how to.

He flexed them and sighed when he leaned back again, his eyes closed . Maybe he should see it the way Hermione had. Was it true? After all, love was something almost every human craved. And after things with Ginny became awkward, he had set himself up for a difficult year, being without her. But maybe things with Ginny were the way they were because he had a mate. He didn't know, but figured it was probably described in one of the books.

After tapping his foot, he decided to get up and start reading on a book. It wasn't his favourite thing to do, but at least he'd be prepared. He had very nearly been unprepared the rest of his life. And maybe he'll figure out how to retract his wings. They could be quite bothersome, since several things were knocked down already. There was only so much a Reparo could do.

After he had settled down, he started to read in, Knowing The Veela In You, which turned out to be quite informative. He decided the books weren't so bad, and started to read the rest of them, which held him captive until it was nearly midnight. Only when his stomach objected, he made some food and crawled into bed. 'Maybe this Veela thing won't be so bad,' was Harry's last thought before he tumbled into black oblivion.

Harry grumbled as he picked himself off of the floor. It had occurred every now and then that he would tumble out of bed in the dead of the night. His wings tangled around him, the white mass disabling him from moving. Somehow he was unable to keep them retracted as he slept. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he took in his room at Grimmauld Place, and frowned. School was starting in a week, but he hadn't packed yet. After putting on some jeans, he trotted downstairs with a yawn, his wings trailing behind him. He scratched at the joint of his right wing, and rolled his shoulders to work out the kinks. When he reached the counter, he pulled some bread out of the cupboard, and some jam out of the other, along with butter. Two pieces of bread were lying on his plate as he settled down at the dinner table.

Another yawn broke free, and he glanced at the clock, grumbling when it was only half past eight. He grumbled again for good measure about his wings not behaving in the night, which results in waking up early. And being uncomfortable. Don't ever forget being uncomfortable. He looked around the kitchen, and frowned. It was always so damned quiet. Shaking off his thoughts, he got up, put his plate on the counter, and walked back upstairs. Maybe packing wasn't such a bad idea after all.

The Floo flared to life, and Harry lifted his head. Hermione dusted off her trousers, and beamed when she saw Harry. "Difficulty with containing your wings?"

Harry shrugged. "No. I just thought I'd give them some space. It feels good."

Hermione nodded, and seated herself in the chair across from Harry. "Did you pack?"

The dark haired teen raised his brow. "We're going to Hogwarts today. It would kind of be stupid not to have packed. My trunk's next to the fireplace."

The witch looked back, and sure enough, the trunk stood next to the fireplace. She nodded at Harry, and covered a yawn. "Are you ready to go, then?" she asked, while she stood up.

Harry gave her a light smile, and stood up himself. "Yes, let's face a brand new Voldemort-less year. I'm sure it'll be a great bore." His wings folded themselves up in his back, and Harry quickly threw a shirt on which previously laid on the table.

"Harry?"

"Yeah?"

"Life at Hogwarts will never be boring when you're attending."

Harry laughed, and picked up his trunk, eyes glittering with mirth. "No, definitely not. Even without this Veela business, things are about to get stirred up. Somehow I'm looking forward to it."

Hermione gave him a smile, before she stepped into the fireplace. She threw Floo Powder down, said "The Burrow", and whooshed away.

Harry followed after her. Just before he let the Powder fall, he looked around a final time, shook his head, and said his destination, tightly engulfed in flames.