PUREBLOOD REFUGEES FLEE TO UK
The recent outbreak of the scientific corralling of pureblood families in Bulgaria and Romania has lead to a mass Diaspora throughout Europe of pureblood wizarding families. As the new laws have been passed in the Народното събрание на Магия (The National Assembly of Magic) legalising the scientific research into magical bloodlines, families with Veela or non-wizarding heritage have found themselves the target of attention as Bulgarian law now require them to submit for testing in the wizard relations ward of the Bulgarian Embassy of Science. This merging of muggle technology and magical research has been troubling for magical governments of neighbouring countries as although it cannot be denied that incredible progress is being achieved, the methods for achieving them are seen as less than palatable. Statements from Todor Zhivkov, the Bulgarian head of state have been vague at best as to what the magical testing entails.
"I assure the wizarding public that this testing is in no way detrimental to the progress of the state. Quality of life will remain much the same, as long as testing continues. Those with bloodlines of questionable talents must acquiesce to testing for the good of the state." No further comment regarding the actual subject of the testing was provided by the government. Refugees seem to find the subject of the testing questionable, however, and continue to flee Bulgaria and now Romania where the laws regarding sciences have been adopted. Spokeswizards from Slovakia, Austria and the Czech Republic have made comment on their willingness to accept the refugees, but travellers suspect back door dealings throughout the wizarding international governments and continue their travelling. Floo networks are being monitored throughout Europe and the increasing numbers of illegal Portkeys are causing havoc for the department of magical transportation. Cornelius Fudge, Minister for magic offered this comment.
"Regardless of the circumstances, we cannot accept more citizens than we have the capacity to hold. Resources are dwindling and care must be taken when dealing with our foreign relations. However, we do not turn down those in need, and should the situation in Bulgaria and Romania escalate steps will be taken to find a solution."
Until then, the increasing numbers of pureblood and Veela-influenced wizarding families that disperse throughout Europe remain a matter of the state of Bulgaria, and the general refusal to interfere preserves our current way of life in wizarding Britain.
Harry placed his copy of the Daily Prophet on the table in the Great Hall and forked some scrambled egg onto his toast. He sighed and shoved the egg lethargically into his mouth, staring at the newspaper with tired eyes.
"What's the Prophet say?" Ron asked Harry, with copious amounts of omelette in his mouth.
"Nothing much." Hermione answered for him, having just finished reading the article from over Harry's shoulder. "A lot of talk about politics and a lot of dodgy dealings from the look of things. Still no word about what the situation actually is."
"It's so vague." Harry frowned. "It keeps on about preserving the current way of life, but that's just changing the topic isn't it?" Harry yawned and tried to hold his head upright. Hermione noticed.
"You're slipping again Harry. Are you going to go see Draco today?"
Harry and Draco had continued the exchange process for the past three weeks. At first, the daily exchange method effectively quelled the random surges of Draco's Veela powers, and each exchange would leave Harry energetic and elated for some strange reason. It was Draco who suggested trying to test the bond, seeing how long they could go without contact before the powers kicked in. So far the maximum time without contact was three days before people started mauling Draco, and Harry was usually first to initiate the contact, as the exchanges affected him as well.
Harry would never say so, but he was slowly becoming addicted to the magical tingle he felt when he touched Draco. Even being near him satisfied some central part of Harry's being, and the thoughts he had in Draco's presence had escalated to wild bizarre fantasies that would never come to pass. Harry could tell he was being affected by Draco's Veela powers, but his psyche was beginning to convince him that what Harry felt was more than a magical lust. Being with Draco on a regular basis had improved their relationship marginally.
Draco was still as stubborn and difficult as usual, but their continual proximity meant that the boys were now on speaking terms, incredibly casual speaking terms, and Harry had started to see a side of Draco that he usually missed out on. Harry, Ron and Hermione all could talk more easily with Draco and his friends, as Draco's condition had formed an unlikely alliance between them.
The fact that Draco's company was intoxicating due to his Veela transformation assisted in the seamless assimilation for the Slytherin boy from his house and the stigma that came with it, to being accepted by the Gryffindors to the extent that they no longer harassed him when he was with Harry. Draco was now the Golden Trio's main resource on all things Veela, and had lengthy discussions regarding the reality of the Bulgaria situation.
"Probably." Harry told Hermione. "If he hasn't come to see me by the end of the day he's maybe, I dunno, locked in his room beating away admirers with his broomstick. It's been four days already."
Ron laughed. Hermione rolled her eyes.
"I saw him in Arithmancy the other day, glowing again. Pansy and Blaise hexed Pamda Patil because she tried to 'accidentally' knock Draco to the ground, so he's probably in good hands."
Harry's stomach clenched when he thought about what hands Draco was in. He was becoming irrationally jealous towards anyone near Draco these days. Harry blamed it on the bond, and the continual notes Hermione had been receiving from Bulgaria backed up this supposition.
"Where do they get off, hexing girls anyway?" Ron complained.
"She was assaulting him Ron. Besides, Pansy was the one who hexed her, so that makes it fair." Harry nodded as if Hermione's words had settled it.
"What, girls can hex other girls? I thought it was a general 'don't hex girls' rule?" Ron pondered.
"Well, not really if you think about it. Guys can fight with each other and that's seen as alright." Hermione pointed out.
"Yeah, but girls are meant to be... you know... nice." Ron stated as if it were obvious.
"We are nice." Hermione smiled. "We can also fight and hex with the best of them. Really Ron, I don't appreciate the sexism there."
"What sexism?" Ron spluttered. "I just said girls are nice and not to hex them, there's nothing wrong with that!"
"Offending someone else, Weasley?" Draco chimed in as he approached the Gryffindor table wearing his customary smirk and school uniform. He and Ron continued to fight, and were not yet on speaking terms that did not involve some form of antagonism.
Harry felt a swell of warmth and longing as Draco came closer to him, making to join him on the Gryffindor bench.
"Would you hex a girl, Draco?" Hermione asked him before Ron could mutter a threatening reply.
"If they bothered me, sure." Draco replied with a small smirk. "Was that the answer you were looking for Granger?"
Ron made an indignant fuss, scolding Draco for saying such things, but Hermione smiled broadly.
"See Ron. It's just you being chauvinistic. Draco would hex a girl, because he see's us as equal."
"No," Ron replied. "Draco would hex a girl because he's an evil git."
"It's not a matter of equality Granger." Draco drawled as he sat on the Gryffindor bench next to Harry.
He snatched up Harry's fork and jabbed it into a pile of blueberries on Harry's plate, popping them into his mouth. His movements were elegant, as was everything about him since the transformation. They drew attention to his slender frame and his angled body.
"If someone bothers me, they deserve to be hexed." He said, covering his mouth as he chewed and swallowed the berries. "For example, Weasley bothers me... a lot." Draco scowled, and his fingers twitched across the table in a small motion.
Harry caught the motions from the corner of his eye and could see the situation escalating as it had in the first week. The hand twitch was Draco's precursor for reaching for his wand, a development Harry would rather avoid at the breakfast table.
"Don't hex him Draco." Harry corrected him before sparks started flying.
"Ha!" Ron pointed at Draco, then turned back to help himself to a second omelette.
"Potter, take it back. I don't want orders from you." Draco fixed Harry in his irritated gaze. His expression was not entirely angry, though, as Draco's conflicting inner Veela took issue with his statement.
"If I take it back you'll hex him. He hasn't done anything to you." Harry mumbled, his head resting on his arms.
"Merlin Potter. Did you sleep at all last night?" Draco asked with narrowed eyes.
"Mmmph." Harry replied.
"You look like shit."
"Mmmnh, s' not my fault." Harry mumbled. "I had Quidditch, and an essay, and I haven't done my Astronomy chart yet."
"Slacker." Draco teased him, forking more fruit from Harry's plate.
"Oh, sod off Malfoy." Ron grumbled, omelette filling his mouth.
"Don't talk with your mouth full Weasley. Its bad manners. And you should have done your chart last week. You've missed the equinox so it's stupid to stay up anyway. What was your point?" Draco chided Harry.
"When was the equinox?" Harry opened a bleary eye.
"Thursday."
"Bugger."
Draco laughed a little. The problem with that was that unfortunately for Draco, his Veela powers were rather strong today, and his laughter – transformed for all intents and purposes into an alluring cascade of bells and frivolity in the eyes and ears of everyone in the Great Hall – attracted an unnecessary amount of attention.
"Did I tell you I've invented the world's best broomstick ever, gorgeous. I'd let you ride, if you know what I mean?"
"If I could rearrange the alphabet, I'd put 'u' and 'i' together. Close together."
"It must have hurt when you fell from heaven. Want me to kiss it better?"
A small crowd of students formed around Draco, moving slowly closer to the blonde Slytherin. Harry scowled. No wonder he was jealous, with the amount of attention Draco attracted. But such was the way of the world with Veela – they were attraction. It still made Harry unhappy, and Draco edged closer along the table to sit nearer to him.
"Hey, bodyguard." Draco nudged Harry's shoulder, taking care not to press skin. "Get rid of the starving masses, will you?"
With the rush of proximity, Harry received a short burst on energy from the magic that powered the bond. He sat up, slightly more alert.
"You heard him, clear off." Harry told the crowd, lazily drawing out his wand. At Harry's request, several students snapped out of their haze and sauntered back to their tables, but the ones who were closest, Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs mostly, ignored Harry; their eyes were glazed with lust.
Ernie Macmillan squeezed into the seat next to Draco on the Gryffindor table and made a great show of stumbling as he did so, so that he placed his hands all over the blonde Veela as he landed.
"Hands off Macmillan!" Draco squealed, and jumped backwards, away from the grabby prefect. Harry received the uncomfortable surprise in that Draco was now sitting on his lap with Veela powers blaring in all directions, alerted by his distress.
"Veela … Perfect … Mine." Ernie could only mumble his stilted sentiments as the fresh wave of attraction washed over him due to his proximity. His pupils dilated with desire and he was practically salivating at the prospect of Draco the Veela.
Harry growled with the jealously that built up over the past few days depriving himself of the exchange. He leaned around the Slytherin on his lap and shoved Ernie off the bench.
"He's not yours Ernie. So back off."
Ernie blinked with surprise when he landed on the stone floor of the hall, the impact jarring him out of his lust filled stupor.
"You can't push me Harry. I'm a prefect!" Ernie exclaimed.
"Yeah, well you were a pervert just a second ago, so I was well within my rights."
"Geez Malfoy," Ron croaked, having just struggled against the wave of lust the rest of the Gryffindors had to overcome. "Can't you get your bloody Veela powers under control?"
"I didn't ask for Perv the Prefect here to maul me, Weasley. It's not my fault."
"Come on." Harry grabbed Draco around the wrist, taking care to touch only the clothing. "Let's go. You've waited too long again. We're going."
"But I haven't had anything to eat – " Draco whinged.
"What? My breakfast doesn't count? Come on." Harry tugged Draco away from the Gryffindor table and pulled him quickly out of the hall, fast enough to shake off the herd of admirers that clung to Draco as he walked.
Harry continued his fast pacing, speeding through the castle to the Room of Requirement.
"Potter. Potter! Slow down, stop dragging me!" Draco complained.
"If we slow down someone will jump on you. Why would you wait for so long again? Do you like testing yourself, or other people for that matter?" Harry grimaced as he considered the number of potential attackers in the corridor, and tried to focus solely on that, as he was still feeling the effects of being so close to Draco's tantalising Veela power.
"I was testing myself; that was the point. And no one will jump on me, don't be silly."
"I'm not being silly; you were just groped by a group of random Hufflepuff guys. That's not what your powers are for."
"You're not prejudiced, are you Potter?" Draco asked wryly, focusing on the first bit of Harry's sentence.
"Prejudiced? What? Against Hufflepuffs? Or unsolicited sexual advances? Because it's the last one."
"Sexual advances, that's a bit rich. It's not like they can help themselves." Draco mumbled.
"You don't have to take that attitude. It's not your fault either. But if they can't keep their hands off you, you have a bloody right to get them off you, by any means necessary."
"What are you, my mother?" Draco scoffed. "Next you'll be telling me to keep a sickle between my knees."
The door to the Veela chamber materialised before them and Harry pushed open the door.
"That's not such a bad idea." Harry muttered to himself. He pulled Draco in the door after him and shut it, blocking out the noise from the corridor leaving the two boys with the eerie peace of the bonding chamber.
"Why were you even bothered?" Draco asked. His voice bounced off the walls of the empty chamber, settling in the still and stagnant air. There was a momentary silence, before Harry started a mad sort of laughing.
"Why aren't you bothered? Ernie just 'accidentally' fell in your lap."
"I'm not saying that wasn't disgusting. He's pretty disgraceful for a supposed A-grade pureblood student." Draco twitched his nose, one of his small signs of displeasure.
"A bit more than disgraceful. Down right lewd if you ask me." Harry scowled.
"See, now that. That was why I asked you. Why does it bother you? It's not like he fell in your lap. He didn't do anything to you."
"I know he didn't. That doesn't excuse his behaviour."
"Oh, so it's his behaviour then." Draco looked curiously at Harry. "Because you sound a bit too bitter to be agonizing over Macmillan's manners."
Harry smiled. Draco's perceptive attitude was one of the other things Harry noticed. When something occurred to Draco, he would not stop until he knew everything about it. He questioned his friends relentlessly, knew all the gossip and was a real pain when you wanted to keep a secret.
"Fine nosy, you got me." Harry laughed, using the nickname Draco's friends used. He was very self conscious about his nose as a result. "It's just – It's probably the bond. I've been all crazily possessive and cranky about you while you're away, holding off on the exchanges. I guess it's not just you the bond affects."
"What do you mean?" Draco asked curiously, looking at Harry with a calculating gleam in his eye. Asking questions until he received a full answer was Draco's style, and Harry knew better than to be elusive now. Harry sighed before answering, as if he were unloading a great burden from his chest.
"I've been really tired and cranky all the time. And I get jealous when I hear other people talking about you. And the whole Veela thing just is pissing me off!"
"What do you mean?" Draco repeated, sounding hurt.
"No, it's not you." Harry quickly corrected. "Other people. Like when they talk about you, and Veela, like their just slaves or – I don't know. And in the papers. It just bothers me."
Draco seemed to understand, semi-satisfied with Harry's stilted explanation and crossed the room to the pillowed area. "I read that too this morning. Blaise was raging about it. Too much propaganda, too much 'All is well' – that sort of thing. Still nothing printed about the 'testing' but I think most pureblood families have a pretty good idea what's going on. Before, the Veela genetics just added to pureblood stigma. There's nothing more magical than something so entirely non muggle. Now that the experiments are successful the prejudice makes it easier for other wizards to think they're in the right, just to give them an advantage."
"Ron was telling me that Fleur and Bill have gone into hiding. People know she's part Veela because she was in the papers in fourth year. Apparently a couple of nights ago someone tried to track her down and cast the spell on her." Harry told his bond mate.
"How horrible." Draco murmured, remembering his own experience of the transformation. Over the weeks Harry learnt that Draco was sort of semi-conscious all those days when he had been comatose due to the curse. It was incredibly painful.
"Yeah. Bill nearly killed the guy. Says he just set out to open the door and bring her down. He was livid."
"It's horrible." Draco repeated in a dull voice. "Someone came for my parents a week ago."
"Really?" Harry asked him, prompting for more information.
"Ministry officials. Conducting a census they said."
"So the ministry's in on it now?"
"Have been since the beginning." Draco sighed and sat on the silk cushions, loosening his tie. "They've been making arrangements with Bulgaria. All under table dealings and the like. I asked the Parkinson's if the ministry came to their house too. They're targeting people."
"Has Pansy any Veela blood in her family?" Harry asked curiously, settling beside Draco on the cushions.
"Not a speck. No one came to her house. Or Avery's. But Blaise had a 'census worker' come to his house. His mum's a quarter Veela."
"What did she do?"
"Hexed the bloke out of the house of course. Right into St Mungo's. Blaise's mum is like that. My Dad cursed the man as well. Nothing too serious." Draco added, upon seeing Harry's worried sharp look. "Just erased his memory and banished him out of the country. That way he won't just go back to the ministry and come again." He slipped his shirt off his shoulders and flexed the muscles in his back.
"God, that's sick isn't it? The amount of people who would enslave part Veela's just because they can."
Draco didn't answer. He was silently implying that Harry was involved in a Veela – Wizard bond, and therefore couldn't hold that opinion, as he was part of the problem. He didn't say it though. He held restraint.
Harry was lost in thought too, indignant in his mind over the injustices people did to Veela. In his head he scorned every scenario he heard of the Veela capture and slavery – his mindset immediately replacing Draco's face on the face of every Veela and feeling this insane pull of jealousy and anger at what other wizards would do to him. He glared at an empty space in thin air.
"Potter? Harry? Harry Potter?"
"Nnnm what?" Harry blinked back into the current and saw Draco holding his hand out expectantly for Harry to pass skin contact over to him. He had taken his shirt off and seemed relaxed as he extended his pale arm out.
Harry zoned out for a little bit, his subconscious pushing to the forefront of his mind the images that raced through his head at breakfast when Draco sat on his lap, his Veela powers drawing Harry out of himself like a magnet for desire. Harry couldn't help but stare at the glowing white skin exposed of the gorgeous Veela boy in front of him.
Harry imagined doing crazy things. Wild, unspeakable, crazy things. He imagined running his tongue all down the broad smooth expanse of Draco's chest. Pressing himself against all his skin and wrapping his coarse fingers around Draco's soft pristine face, inhaling the smell of his hair, tasting the sweet flavour of sugar, vanilla and apples that seemed to cling to the air around the blonde Slytherin. Tasting it from his mouth.
Harry snapped out of his bizarrely erotic daydream when he heard Draco tutting at him. If Harry were to be honest, he would have tutted too.
"Give me your hand, you idiotic Gryffindor." Draco reached for Harry's arm and grabbed him around the wrist. Harry was shocked as the magic coursed through him. This was the first time Draco had actually purposefully touched his wrist. Usually the blonde waited for Harry to grab him, not touching him, keeping his hand teasingly close.
Draco smiled triumphantly up at Harry, his wings outstretched, the power flooding his body without the usual conflict that went with it.
"Surprised?" Draco's grin was smug. He too realised the achievement of being the initiator today, and the magic made his achievement grand with dizzy recklessness. "I've been taking a potion that means I don't have to worry about the side effects any more."
"Good for you." Harry muttered distractedly. "Wait. Side effects? You had side effects?"
Draco laughed giddily, the magic affecting his body while his mind was in charge. "Oh, just nothing. I'm just a little more in control now."
"Really?" Harry asked him, suspiciously noting how Draco had dodged his question. "Did Snape make you the potion?"
Draco scowled at the mention of Snape and seemed to shudder. "Eurgh, yes. And he's been going on about it for ages."
Harry smiled a little. He found amusement now in Draco's complaints when before it would infuriate him as evidence of the stuck up nature of his nemesis.
"I told him if I wanted a lecture I'd have asked him in class – but noooo. He always has to tell you seven different ways in which he's right and you're irresponsible. I said to him a responsible person might wash their hair more."
Harry roared with laughter. Draco's stories about Snape were continually amusing, as Draco could get away with so much more than regular students.
"Then he kept pestering me to do something about the glow. I barely even notice it myself. But it bothers Sev, or it freaks him out or something. He wants me to go out all gloved up and to wear a great full collared coat or something. I told him I'm not going to dress like some bloody nun just so he won't have to invest in sun glasses or get used to bright lights. He practically lives in the dungeons. In fact, he does live in the dungeons, and there's hardly any light down there anyway."
Through their frequent interactions it became clear to Harry just how talkative Draco was. There were times when Harry felt sympathy for Pansy and Blaise, and other times when he just couldn't get over the side of Draco he never knew. He often wished the blonde would never stop talking. The way he moved his lips was enough to distract Harry.
He had to shake himself out of that thought sharpish. Changing the subject to spare his mind's fragile illusions that he and Draco could be 'just friends'.
"Wait, you said Blaise's mum is quarter Veela? So does that mean Blaise is Veela too?"
"No, it's only on his mum's side, and his Dad's genetics kind of cancel out the Veela gene."
"But – does that even work?"
"Mmm, yeah. Blaise's dad is Persian, has been for generations and his lineage has always been in the sun and intense heat. Veela are winter creatures, you know, they're always pale and colder than most people, and so the hot weather that was transported to Blaise through his father's side kind of melted or burnt out the Veela gene."
"That doesn't sound right." Harry pondered on all the information he had learnt about genetics from Hermione and when he went to Muggle School. "Genetics are about DNA. Weather can't affect what's in your blood."
"That's muggle science." Draco corrected Harry. "It's different with wizarding science. Certain things can be transferred in the blood, whether it's protection, curses, talents, or weather. It's almost common knowledge now. About the only thing the papers will print about wizarding science is the 'breakthroughs'."
"Yeah." Harry agreed. They sat in silence a while longer, feeling the bond relay between them. "So, how long are you going to wait this time before the next exchange?" Harry asked almost reluctantly.
"Oh, I'm pretty sure I can last a fair bit longer this time now that I have the new potion. I need to practise, so that will be good for me."
Harry frowned a little at these words.
"You'd tell me if someone grabbed you again, right? You know it's not good to ignore that sort of thing?"
"I don't ignore it." Draco replied in a huffy tone.
"It's my job to protect you. You shouldn't brush off these things like what happened with Ernie at breakfast as if they're no big deal." Harry chastised his Slytherin counterpart.
"I didn't just 'brush it off'. I'll remember it, so that way I can find an appropriate consequence for Macmillan later. When the bond is normal."
Snape and Hermione for that matter, had been urging Harry and Draco to increase the number of exchanges so the bond could be 'normal'. Through reading Dacribade's notes – all confiscated evidence now – they felt certain that they could advise Harry and Draco how to remove some of the subjectivity that happened in the early stages of the bond, now that the magic was fluctuating. Apparently, in eventuality, the bond would progress to the point where the glow could be controlled, the wings could be controlled, and the lust filled behaviour of the students around him could be controlled.
It was an alluring prospect, but Draco was the main protester against it. The cementing of the bond until it became 'normal' required more skin contact, and Draco could barely handle the current amount. That was the reason he started to take Snape's potion. He was lacking in self-control, or so he thought, and the Veela persona's continual voice would often urge him to deepen the skin contact into something heavier, steamier, and R-rated whenever the subject arose.
Harry wasn't adverse to the idea of more skin contact. He couldn't help himself, it seemed, and blurted out the appeal of the idea in a conspicuous manner several times. If anything, Harry was keen on the idea, but always blamed the Veela allure for whatever urges or statements that tumbled out of his mouth.
"Yeah. Normal." Harry nodded absently. "Hey, do you want to – to have more exchanges and stuff, you know. To get the bond, uh, normal?"
Draco blanched. "No."
Harry blushed and immediately backtracked at the thought of sounding too eager about the bond. Draco had shut him down, clearly finding the idea repulsive, and Harry's subconscious flared in both jealousy and disappointment.
"Yeah, it was just – you know, Hermione's been hounding me... look, we'll forget it. It doesn't matter."
"So." Draco said lightly, seeing now as a good time to retreat. "See you in Potions?"
"Uh, yeah sure." Harry replied, getting to his feet as well and hoisting his bag onto his shoulders. "You should have some breakfast too. Sorry for snatching you like that."
"Mmm. Fine. I'll just go."
"Uh, yeah. Bye."
Draco sauntered quickly out the chamber door and Harry smacked his forehead with his fist.
"God, I'm an idiot." He muttered to himself. This Veela thing was just becoming too much. It was practically all he could do to put his foot in his mouth and stare at the cursed Slytherin. He was becoming obsessed. He needed to get away. Talk to Ron and Hermione.
Ron was right; he was being Veela-struck.