Draco was sitting alone in a compartment, staring gloomily in front of him while playing absentmindedly with his ring. Ah, the ring of the Malfoy Heir. Years ago, when he was still a child, he'd regarded the ring with the utmost pride and admiration. Wearing the ring would mean having power, respect and millions of galleons behind his name. Two years ago, when he'd received his task from the Dark Lord, and had officially started wearing the ring, he'd began associating his ring with other attributions. Pressure, fear, shame, a suffocating past of blood prejudice and even death. Nowadays you could add another characteristic to it.

Draco and Narcissa were having their daily cup of tea in the Blue Salon of the manor.

"I feel so strange, Mother."

Narcissa, who was gracefully sipping her tea, put her teacup slowly on the saucer and calmly examined her son's appearance. She tried to hide a hopeful smile.

"How long have you been feeling so, Draco?"

"For three days now. At first, I thought I'd might be getting a cold, but it doesn't make any sense. I don't have a headache, I'm not having trouble concentrating, I haven't even sneezed these past days."

"You said you were feeling strange. Care to elaborate?"

"I feel like my magic's tingling, I feel it reaching out for something, expanding, but I also feel strangely vulnerable, as if the smallest hex would knock me out. It's quite exhausting."

At his words Narcissa gave a little smirk which didn't pass by Draco unnoticed.

"Mother, do you know what's going on with me?", Draco asked eagerly, imploring her with his eyes to answer him.

"My son, it seems like you are even more exceptional than we thought you to be."

Draco was staring at her with big eyes, trying to remain calm whilst on the inside he was dying of curiosity.

"What do I have, Mother?"

"My son, you're asking the wrong question. It's not what you have but what you are."

Draco gave his mother a small frown, but remained as passive as before, awaiting her answer.

"Veela, my son."

If Draco hadn't been so gobsmacked he might've laughed. Him, a Veela? Oh, the irony of it!
He'd spent the better part of his life degrading everyone who wasn't a Pureblood only to now find out that he had never been one to begin with!

"A Veela?" he asked, disbelievingly.

Narcissa gave him a small nod, encouraging him to process this new information.

"But I can't be, I'm your son! You and father aren't Veelas.", he exclaimed whilst shaking his head and looking at her with frantic eyes.

"No, we are indeed no Veelas, but you were fortunate enough to inherit the gene, thus making you the first Veela of the Black family in over 200 years!"

She smiled proudly at him.

"What? What do you mean with 'Veela of the Black family'?"

Narcissa ushered a small feminine giggle.

"We Blacks have many secrets. One of them is our heritage."

He gave her an encouraging nod to continue.

"In the year 1300, Augustus Black, fell madly in love with a Romanian Veela, Andrea of the Enescu family. As arranged marriages were the norm back then, he wasn't allowed to marry the girl, being already promised to Serpentine Nott whose family was one of the Blacks' greatest allies. He had no choice but to marry Serpentine, but he took Andrea as mistress. A year later, Andrea died in childbirth, giving him a son, Julius Black. Augustus became a shadow of his former self after his mistress' untimely death. It was as if he had died with her. It was up to Serpentine, who admired her husband so and would do anything to please him, to raise Julius up as a true Black.
That's how the Veela gene got into the Black family. The last Veela before you was my late great-grandmother, Artemis Black."

Draco was staring at her with wide eyes.

"Why haven't you told me this before?"

"Your father and I planned on telling you when you came of age, but with the war going on we figured it was best to wait until either the war came to an end or you started showing the signs of possessing the Veela gene."

Draco was trying to keep his breathing under control, feeling a panic attack was underway. He had so many questions about what being a Veela meant as he only knew the basics, which weren't very fortunate if you asked him. But his inquisitiveness had to wait as his self-preservation took the lead.

"What do I need to do?"