AN: Thanks to all reviewers for the previous chapter. Here's chapter 3.

About A Boy And His Veela: Chapter Three – The Morning After

June 5th

Fairly early the next morning, a soft little knock sounded on Draco's bedroom door.

"Young master Draco?" Delia, Narcissa's personal house elf, squeaked timidly. "My mistress is wondering if you is ready for breakfast now."

There was an ominous silence. No response came from within the room. Delia, remembering her orders, knocked again.

"Young master Draco?" she questioned once more. "Is you alright?"

There was a long silence before Draco's voice came from the room. "Get mother for me, Delia. Please."

Delia jumped in shock. Young master Draco had never said please, ever, to any of the house elves in the Manor. To be doing so now indicated his need was beyond trying to retain any of his long-held traits.

"At once, young master!" she cried, and disappeared from the hallway outside with a soft pop.

HPDM

Narcissa picked up the fine china cup marked with the Malfoy family crest. She took a delicate sip of her tea and turned a page of the Daily Prophet. She was scanning an article just as a soft pop announced the return of Delia.

"Delia," She smiled at the little elf, "I trust he's on his way?"

"Mistress!" Delia squeaked, sounding excessively distressed. "Young master Draco is telling me to come and get you, mistress!"

"Come and get me?" Narcissa repeated, alarmed. "Whatever for?"

"I is not knowing, mistress!" Delia cried. "He is telling me to come get you so I is coming to get you!"

"Very well. Thank you for telling me." Narcissa stood and straightened the long, feather-light robes she wore. "You are dismissed for now."

"At once, mistress! Let Delia know if you need any more help!" Delia cried, and disappeared with a pop.

Narcissa performed a graceful twirl, also disappearing from the breakfast room, except with a resonating crack.

HPDM

She reappeared beside Draco's bedroom door, and knocked once, twice, three times with a pale fist. "My Dragon?" she called. "It's me, I'm here."

"Come in, mother." Her son's voice sounded quiet and pained.

She twisted the golden handle and stepped into the room, closing the door quietly behind her. She crossed over the ancient, beautiful rugs that decorated the floor, heading for the magnificent bed where her Dragon's prone form lay.

Draco was curled beneath the silver quilt, eyes closed, hair spilling over his face. Narcissa seated herself on the edge of the bed.

"Dragon?" She murmured.

He looked up, and her hands flew over her mouth.

His eyes, which had been the cool grey of rain clouds just the day before, were completely different now. Twin pools of shining, beautiful silver gazed at her, contrasting against the long blonde eyelashes that framed them.

"Draco…" she whispered, slowly lowering her hands and gazing at him in awe, "…your eyes…"

"What about them?" Draco said, panicked, and he tried to move but ceased his efforts immediately, wincing as he shrunk back against the mattress.

"Oh, my Dragon." She sighed, concern evident on her delicate features. "What happened to you?"

"The transformation seemed to be going fine." Draco said, eyes closed. "I was getting a strange tingly sensation, but I figured it was just part of the whole process."

Narcissa nodded. "That was from your Veela blood activating, and your magic levels adjusting themselves."

"Well, that's what I thought as well." Draco said. "But the magic didn't join in until later, and when it did…" he paused, wincing in memory, "…it was horrible."

Narcissa looked pale - even more so than usual. She nodded tightly, eyes bright. "How so, Dragon?"

"My magic was moving too fast." Draco recalled. "I could feel it going through its channels and everything, but it was just…too much of it, too quickly. Way too much. Everything started shaking around me and my skin became really hot…"

Narcissa froze, a suspicion arising as Draco described what had happened. "And how do you feel now?"

"I can't move very much without feeling like something is zapping me." Draco answered softly. "I can still feel my magic, though…there's so much of it…"

Narcissa nodded decisively. She stood up from the bed. "I think I have an idea as to what's happened." She told her son. "I'm uncertain, however. I need to check with Severus."

"Severus?" Draco questioned, startled. He tried to sit up but was forced back down from the pain.

"Shhh, Dragon. Stay still, and try to relax, it'll help." Narcissa soothed.

"But Severus works for the Dark Lord." Draco pointed out as he lay there, definitely not liking the fact he couldn't move. "Would it be wise to involve him?"

"Severus is a spy." Narcissa said, matter-of-factly. "He has been ever since the Dark Lord came back to power. I informed him of my intentions, and of your situation, before you returned home. He is a perfectly safe source to seek help from."

"Severus is a spy?" Draco repeated, sounding stunned. His beautiful eyes narrowed as he looked at his mother. "What else do you know that I don't?"

"Many things, Dragon." She replied, smiling. "Now, I will be back soon with Severus. Keep still. I shan't be long."

Draco raised his eyebrows slightly, to indicate he'd heard and understood. She blew a kiss to him and swept from the room.

HPDM

"27 Spinner's End!" Narcissa said clearly, throwing her handful of powder into the fireplace of her private study. The flames within rose with a loud whoosh and turned bright green. Grimacing as she always did when using the Floo system, Narcissa knelt, took a deep breath, and then stuck her head into the fire.

After the spinning sensation had stopped, she found herself looking into Severus Snape's private study.

"Severus!" she called as loudly as she could.

He appeared in the doorway almost immediately, dressed in his trademark of long, black robes. He crossed the room quickly, and knelt beside the fireplace.

"Narcissa." He greeted, looking mildly surprised to see her there. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Draco came into his inheritance last night." Narcissa explained quickly. "But there's been a problem with his magic, and I'm not entirely sure of its nature. I was hoping you could help. Are you busy?"

Snape shook his head, causing the curtains of dark, greasy hair to sway limply in front of his face. "Not at the moment, no. I'll come at once."

"Thank you." Narcissa said gratefully, and she pulled back from the fireplace and straightened up, dusting off her robes with an expression of mild distaste. She was just finishing up when the flames in the fireplace flared green again, and a figure appeared, spinning very quickly. Snape stepped over the threshold, only briefly dusting his robes off.

"Where is he?" he asked her quietly.

"In his bedroom." She answered, already beginning to walk; Snape hurried to keep up with her. "Thank you again for coming at such short notice."

"It's no problem." Snape answered, waving a dismissive hand. "He is, after all, my godson. I must do what I can to ensure his wellbeing in the absence of his father."

Narcissa smiled lightly as they began climbing a set of stairs that would lead them to Draco's rooms. Snape eyed her thoughtfully as they climbed.

"And you, how are you holding up underneath all your recent stress?" he questioned.

"Stress?" Narcissa waved the word off. "It is no stress. I shall be glad to finally be free of that excuse for a husband." She paused. "I admit I was concerned for Draco earlier, though."

"As you would be under the circumstances." Snape said quietly as they turned into the corridor that contained Draco's bedroom.

Narcissa knocked on the door. "Dragon, it's me, with Severus. May we come in?"

"Yes, mother." Came Draco's tired voice.

Narcissa opened the door, allowed Snape through, and then followed him in, closing the door behind him. They both crossed to the bed.

Draco opened his eyes. Seeing Severus there caused his cheeks to flush a dull pink; it hadn't occurred to him his godfather would be seeing him in this vulnerable state.

"Draco." Snape greeted, conjuring a chair from nowhere and sitting down beside the bed.

"Hello, Severus." Draco returned.

"Now," Snape looked to Narcissa with questioning eyes, "Exactly what has been going on?"

Narcissa smiled ruefully. "Why don't you tell Severus what you told me, Dragon?"

Draco launched into a description. Narcissa wandered over to her son's desk while he talked, glancing at the books that were scattered there. Draco had seemed to her to accustom himself well to the information they had read over together. She was proud of her son for handling himself with such dignity and aplomb even in the face of such unusual circumstances.

Narcissa walked back over to her son's bed, where Draco was finishing telling Severus what had happened.

"…and my skin became extremely hot…" Draco was saying.

Snape nodded and held up a hand. "Say no more." He said. "I think I know what has happened."

He turned to look at Narcissa. "When Veela come into their inheritance, generally, it follows certain steps. First of all, their appearance changes. This is usually barely discernable to the Veela." He glanced at Draco. "You said all you felt at first was a tingle?"

"Yes." Draco said, and Snape nodded. "That is the second step, where the blood composition re-adjusts itself as the Veela genes are activated. Thirdly, the Veela's magic channels adjust themselves to accommodate their new levels. This is nearly always harmless, as the channels are adaptable and can handle the increase in magic."

He paused, looking seriously between the two. "However, this was the stage where things didn't run quite as smoothly for Draco, and the reason for his bed-ridden state this morning."

"Why? What happened to me?" Draco asked fearfully.

"The amount of magic you gained, and the sheer power of it, was too much for your system to accommodate in such a small period of time." Snape answered. "Your magic channels essentially shut themselves down in order to slowly allow the magic in at a trickle. It's a natural defence mechanism, and nothing to be alarmed about. You need to stay still and allow your body to adjust at its own pace. When you can move again, you'll know your magic channels have healed themselves."

"That's what I suspected had happened." Narcissa said, frowning. "But why did it happen to him? What does it mean?"

"Veela experience a boost in magical abilities in order to protect their mates." Snape said. "Normally, this means the Veela only experiences a relatively small boost. Such an enormous boost in magic, for a Veela, is an indicator that their future mate possesses extreme magical ability."

"So my magic has increased so much," Draco surmised from the bed, "because my mate, whoever it is, is extremely magically powerful?"

"Essentially, yes." Snape nodded.

"That makes sense." Narcissa said. "Is there anything we can do to make the adjustment easier for Draco?"

"No. A wizard with non-intact magical channels is very vulnerable. The magic knows this. The zapping sensation Draco described that occurs when he moves comes from his magic warning him it's not ready yet. All he can do is stay where he is and wait for his magic channels to recover."

"I see." Narcissa breathed out, and smiled gratefully at Snape. "Thank you so much, Severus, for coming to help us."

"It was nothing." He said, looking slightly awkward as he glanced away from her.

"Can I have breakfast, at least?" Draco demanded. "I'm hungry."

Narcissa glanced at Snape questioningly. "Will food interfere with his healing?"

"No." Snape shook his head. "In fact, being fuelled with food will ensure Draco is physically stronger, which will most likely make the magical healing faster."

"Very good." Narcissa nodded. She cleared her throat. "Delia!"

The little house elf appeared before them at once. She sunk into a low curtsy before straightening up.

"Yes, mistress?"

"Make arrangements for breakfast for myself, Draco and our guest to be brought up here for us to eat." She told the elf.

"Of course, mistress!" Delia cried eagerly, and then hesitated, peering around Narcissa in an attempt to see the bed. "Is young master Draco being OK?" she questioned tentatively.

"Yes, Delia." Narcissa smiled. "He will be fine, no need to worry. Off you go."

"At once, mistress!" Delia said, and she disappeared with a soft pop.

HPDM

Draco lay on his back beneath the quilt, staring at the canopy above his head. It was just past 2 o' clock in the afternoon. Draco had been lying in his bed for about 14 hours straight, and he was sick of it.

The three of them had eaten breakfast together – his mother levitating food into his mouth, something which had caused him deep embarrassment – and then Severus and Narcissa had left him to discuss important matters, most likely relating to the Dark Lord and Lucius. That had been around two or so hours ago.

About once every half an hour he tried to move, only to be met with that sharp zap sensation that rendered him onto his back.

In the hours he'd had since Severus and Narcissa had left, he'd had time to think. He had been trying to think of someone who could possibly be powerful enough that warranted him to be bedridden for 14 hours to recover from getting a power boost powerful enough to protect them. The only people he knew who were truly, properly magically powerful were Dumbledore and Voldemort. He of course had completely dismissed either of the pair, as the idea of either of them being his mate was simply disgusting.

He had also properly realised something else. Something was wrong, with his…heart. It felt strange, as though a huge chunk of it was missing, and there was a gnawing feeling that was prompting him to do… something, but he wasn't sure exactly what. It was frustrating, he wanted badly to get up and move around and at least do something, but he couldn't.

Speaking of which, it was time to try moving again. Slowly, cautiously, he began to raise his left arm. It was ten centimetres above the mattress…it was twenty…it was thirty! Hardly daring to believe it, Draco raised his right arm as well. Finding no responding zap reprimanding him, he slowly raised his whole body to a sitting position.

He moved his arms faster, pleased that they seemed to be moving more freely. He pushed aside the quilt and stood up, his legs shaking slightly from not being used in many hours, but otherwise, perfectly able to move.

He froze as he looked down to the Persian rugs he knew so well. They definitely seemed further away, somehow.

Looking up slowly, Draco spotted his reflection in the full length, golden-framed mirror on the opposite wall. His jaw dropped, and he walked towards it, as though in a dream.

He was considerably taller than he had been before. Previous to his birthday, he had been a reasonable height of 5 foot 8. Now, though, he had shot up to 5 foot 11. This was not the only thing that had changed. His hair had always been ear-length, neat, and white blonde. It was now chin-length, messy, and seemed to have obtained a golden sheen that gave him the appearance of having a halo over his head.

For Merlin's sake. He groaned inwardly, turning his head to examine his hair from every angle. I look like a bloody priss.

The light caught his eyes, and he froze again. He had always had his father's eyes. The cool, grey shade had always reminded him of stone, which surmised his father's personality perfectly – cold, impenetrable. But these, his eyes now, were completely different. He could understand why his mother had been so alarmed earlier. They were not that dull grey, but bright, beautiful silver. They sparkled and shone in the light. They conveyed warmth.

Perhaps the most noticeable change of all, however, was his body. It was summer, and Draco was wearing only loose silk pyjama pants, so the change was extremely evident. While not exactly extremely skinny, previously Draco had been slim. Now, though, his body had bulked up, with definition of lean muscles. And his skin…Draco had always had pale, flawless skin, a trait that came from both his parents. If it was possible, his skin now seemed even paler – alabaster, even – and Draco had to admit, the effects of the changes was breathtaking.

"Draco?" A knock sounded from his bedroom door, which opened as his mother stepped in. She stopped short and gasped at the sight of her son.

"Oh, my Dragon." She breathed, eyes shining with joy. "You're okay. And you look beautiful."

"I do, don't I?" Draco remarked, turning back to admire his reflection. He was nothing if not vain, whether he was a Veela or not.

Narcissa chuckled quietly as she crossed the room to stand beside her son. "You must try to practise modesty, my Dragon." She remarked. "Arrogance is not an attractive trait in a wizard, no matter how attractive their outside may be."

"But I'm not just a wizard, Mother." He reminded her. "I'm a half-veela."

"You are." She smiled. "A half-veela whose birthday it happens to be. Bon anniversaire, my Dragon. I'm sorry that it started the way it did. Why don't you get dressed, and come down and open your present?" She suggested.

"I will, mother." He promised. "I just want to check some things first."

"Of course. Don't be too long." She cautioned, and then quietly left the room.

Draco dressed quickly once she was gone, in well-tailored black pants and a loose shirt made of a soft grey silky material. This being done, he went back to the mirror and appraised himself. The clothes clung to his body, showing off its new state extremely well. He eyed his hair critically, still uncertain of how he felt about its new long, messy status, although he supposed it was a change for the better.

He walked over to his desk and re-located 'So You're A Veela: A Guide To Being Beautiful And Having A Beneficial Life.' He sat down and flipped it open, checking the Inheritance chapter and performing a mental checklist in his head.

Magical boost? Check.

Extremely attractive appearance? Check.

Allure?

Hmmm. Draco pondered, frowning slightly as he re-read the section about receiving the power called the Allure. That was the one thing he wasn't sure about as of yet. He turned to chapter 13 of the book, which was dedicated to information about the Allure.

The Allure is a charm that is exclusive to Veela in use – that is, no ordinary wizard has the capability of using it. It is best described as a 'wave' that the Veela sends out which causes those near to the Veela to lose their minds temporarily and try to impress the Veela in any way they can.

If an Allure is strong enough, its effect on ordinary wizards is comparable to that of the Imperius Curse, in that the Veela can get the wizard in question to do anything they want. For this reason, Veela and the Allure itself are seen as 'grey' creatures – not entirely safe, but not entirely dark either. Wizarding children are often raised being warned about the effects of the Allure. An ample amount of skill at Occlumency is the most effective way known for counteracting the use of an Allure by a Veela.

The only wizard for whom the Allure will not properly work for any Veela is their mate. Traditionally, Veela can become extremely dangerous when their mate or other loved ones are threatened. The mate is the only one who can soothe the Veela in this state, and thus they need the immunity against the Allure in case the Veela tries to use it to get their own way.

Prior to bonding, however, the use of the Allure does affect the mate when in the same proximity as the Veela, but not in the same way as other wizards. Instead, mates have described feeling an overwhelming attraction to the Veela, and a strange desire to protect the Veela. They do not, however, lose their minds, or try to impress the Veela.

Veela will subconsciously use the Allure upon seeing their mate for the first time after coming into their Inheritance, in an attempt to attract them. This release of the Allure can be up to ten times stronger than when the Veela consciously uses the Allure, so caution is needed.

To use the Allure, the Veela must simply picture their magic gathering near their heart and then envision releasing it. The older that the Veela gets the more experienced they will be at controlling the power of the Allure. Veela that have come into their inheritance usually have very little control over the Allure, but over time this will change.

Draco stopped reading and set the book aside. He sat quietly, trying to do as the book said and picture his magic gathering near his heart. He jumped a little, startled, when he felt the magic rushing through the channels straight towards his chest. He imagined it being released in an outwards wave. The air around him felt distinctly warmer, but nothing else seemed to have happened.

Pleased nonetheless, Draco stood up and headed for the door. Perhaps this whole situation wouldn't be that bad after all, exempting the gnawing feeling in his chest.

HPDM

Harry went for a run that afternoon. He had gotten back to sleep after the strange dream the night before fairly quickly, and hadn't dreamt anything else for the rest of the night. He had spent the early portion of the day cooking and doing chores for the Dursleys. After he'd made them lunch, he'd left the house before any of them could think of another chore for him to complete, and now he was running.

Having the slender frame that he did, running was not difficult for him. There were no deposits of extra fat anywhere on his body that could slow down his stride or wreck his breathing. He ran up and down the streets, past parks and houses, past children who all got out of the way when they saw him coming. Everyone in this neighbourhood knew him as 'that Potter boy'; the dangerous delinquent from St Brutus's, and so they avoided him like the plague. This suited him well, however, and didn't bother him in the slightest.

He ran and ran, enjoying how the exercise emptied his mind and challenged his body. If he couldn't use his Firebolt, he could at least do this.

He returned to Number 4 Privet Drive only to find Uncle Vernon red-faced and furious that he had been doing anything other than jobs for them, and so was forced to go into the backyard and weed Aunt Petunia's precious gardens.

He did so, pulling at the stubborn plants as hard as he could, thinking about Sirius and running and the dream he'd had last night. It left him with a slightly unsettled feeling whenever he remembered the beautiful light by the rock pool. He could still picture it. He didn't know what the dream was about, however.

Maybe it's a dream sent from Voldemort. He panicked briefly before dismissing the idea. If Voldemort was going to send him any visions or nightmares he would make sure they were of death and destruction and murder, not of mysterious but beautiful lights beside a rock pool.

He pulled out the last weed, wondering if he'd have the same dream tonight, before Uncle Vernon's bellowed "BOY!" from within the house interrupted his train of thought. He stood and went inside, preparing himself for whatever ridiculous task his uncle had dreamed up this time.

HPDM

Draco arrived in the sitting room, which was a large, elegant room on the second floor of Malfoy Manor. It was filled with many antique lounges and like most rooms in the manor was furnished with a large, ornate fireplace along one wall. Narcissa was waiting for him on one of the lounges, the pale robes she wore contrasting against the royal blue of the lounge she sat on. She smiled at him as he crossed the room and sat down with her on the lounge.

"Happy birthday, my Dragon." She said, producing a small silver box from her robes and handing it to him.

"Thank you, Mother." He said, taking the box and carefully lifting the lid. Sitting inside on scarlet coloured velvet was a ring. He recognized it as the Malfoy family ring, previously warn by his father.

He looked at his mother, shocked. "The Malfoy family ring?"

"Yes." She said softly. "They took it off him and sent it to me shortly after his arrest. He has disgraced the name of Malfoy, and thus is no longer worthy of wearing the ring. Ordinarily it would not go to you until you turn seventeen, but because Veela come of age at sixteen, it can legally be passed on to you now. Only the heir to the Malfoy line can wear this ring. It is a very serious matter, my Dragon."

Draco eyed the ring silently. It was silver, with real diamonds and a phrase saying 'Mauvais foi' engraved on its inside.

"Put it on." She encouraged him. "It is yours now."

Hesitantly, Draco did so. He felt it magically change to fit his finger perfectly.

"Before summer's end," she said to him, "I will be divorced from Lucius Malfoy. I will be Narcissa Black once more. But you, my son, will always be Draco Malfoy, no matter what Lucius does. You are the heir to the family name now. As such, you have duties to fulfil. It is your choice what you will do with these duties and how you will handle them. Will you accept this responsibility?"

"I will, Mother." He said gravely, sensing how important this was to her.

"Good choice, my Dragon." She smiled at him. She clapped her delicate hands together. "Well! That shall come later. For today, it is your birthday, and such matters should not grace our thoughts. What would you say to having your friends over for a birthday dinner?"

Draco's brilliant silver eyes lit up before they darkened once more. "My friends don't know about me yet." He said quietly.

Narcissa studied him intently. "No, they don't." she agreed. "Do you wish to tell them?"

"I…" Draco began hesitantly. He swallowed. "I do." He said quietly. "I'm just concerned about how they will react."

"If they are your friends, they will accept you." Narcissa said.

"They're Slytherins, Mother." Draco pointed out. "Slytherins aren't renowned for being the most accepting people. I mean for Merlin's sake, they're not Gryffindors!"

"Nonetheless, they are still your friends." Narcissa reminded him gently. "And if I recall correctly, Slytherins have a tendency to stick together, as well as for ambition. Friendship with a Veela is beneficial, especially considering you received the power boost you did. If they are in any way sane, they will know better than to turn you away."

"I suppose so." Draco said doubtfully.

"So, shall I have the elves send out the invitations?" she asked him.

Draco was quiet, before his silver eyes hardened in resolve. "Yes, send them out."

Narcissa nodded. "As you wish, Dragon."

She stood, and he did as well. They left the sitting room together.

"Perhaps you should go have a shower and get yourself ready." She suggested to him as they walked through the vast halls and corridors of the Manor. "You can hardly convince them to stay by your side when you're unwashed." Her blue eyes shone playfully.

He chuckled slightly. "Anyone would think you're losing your subtlety, Mother." He commented. "Very well, I will."

They reached a crossroads, one corridor leading to the elves quarters, one leading to the staircase to the third floor. Narcissa hugged him tightly. He returned the gesture awkwardly, feeling at odds with himself.

"Everything will turn out fine." She murmured, pulling away and looking at him seriously.

"I know." He said, trying to smile. She blew him a kiss and then turned with a whirl of her pale robes, striding smoothly away. Draco turned as well and headed for the stairs, determinedly ignoring the gnawing feeling in his chest and hoping with everything he had his friends would accept him.

TBC

AN: w00p! Another chapter finished. I very skilfully managed to write this over the weekend before school started. So, I hope you enjoyed it! Another question, what do you think of Snape having a tad of a crush on Narcissa? Reciprocated or not? Yay or nay? Opinions always appreciated.

See you next time!

bleedingxheart