Yes, another dramione. I just can't stop.

I love Veela Draco, but there are not many veela fics I like... so I decided to write one!

Hope you like it :)

As always, the characters and universe of Harry Potter belong to J. K. Rowling, but this story is mine. I DON'T GIVE PERMISSION TO POST MY STORIES ON OTHER PLACES/WEBS.

You can also read it on Ao3.

*Warning: This story contains violence and sexual content*

Chapter One

The trial

Draco knew this day would come.

He knew it the moment he stood in front of the Hogwarts' Headmaster, raising his wand against him. As Dumbledore's deep blue eyes bore into his, he had realised he couldn't do it. He wasn't a murderer, but he had nearly killed some of his schoolmates trying to take the life of the Headmaster, and he had a snake on his forearm that marked him as a follower of a serial killer.

If Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix succeeded in defeating the Dark Lord in the end, he would have to pay for everything he had done. For all his mistakes.

And the time had come to know his sentence.

Days before, his father had been sentenced to fourteen years in Azkaban. Draco was locked in a cell on the lowest floor of the Ministry of Magic since the Battle of Hogwarts, only a few feet from the great hall of the Wizengamot. And he had learned of Lucius's conviction because he was allowed to read 'The Daily Prophet' from time to time.

How many weeks had it been... Two? Four? He couldn't really keep track.

Draco sighed and got up from the hard mattress he'd been sleeping on for days. One of the guards had left the newspaper behind the bars, next to a cup of coffee.

Of course, it was better that he was awake and energised for his trial. For the rest of the days, he had only been able to drink water and two rations of food a day, though he couldn't complain. He knew that everything would be much worse in Azkaban, from the bed to the food.

He was still innocent in the eyes of the magical community, though that would change in a few hours, as soon as his sentence was decided.

Draco sat down on the floor, wincing in pain. He still had some wounds from the battle that had not fully healed.

Looking at 'The Daily Prophet', he saw that it was the fifth of June. Wonderful, his birthday. He was eighteen now, and he was going to celebrate it by losing his freedom.

Luckily, his mother had only been locked up for two days. According to what he had read, Potter had spoken to the Minister of Magic himself, demanding that Narcissa Malfoy was released immediately.

She had lied to the Dark Lord, saving his life, and therefore didn't deserve to stand trial. Without her help, Lord Voldemort would still be in control of the Ministry and he would be dead. Or so Potter had said in the interview Draco had read over three weeks before that day.

Narcissa was allowed to visit him once a week, just like his father in Azkaban (normally prisoners were only allowed one visit a month, but in his father's case they were making an exception due to something that was a big family secret and practically no one knew about) and she had been trying to cheer him up. Potter, Granger and Weasley were going to testify at his trial, and his mother thought that would help reduce his sentence. Maybe they'd even set him free like they had done with her.

Draco snorted at the thought and took a large sip of his coffee. His mother was too optimistic, he knew he was facing at least five years in Azkaban... maybe even more.

A guard arrived and, after giving him a look of contempt, opened the door to his small cell and pointed down the corridor with his wand. Draco stepped out and walked to the place he knew the bathroom was, where he was allowed to shower once a day.

This time, instead of another grey uniform like the one everyone awaiting a trial wore, on the sink was one of his black suits. Surely his mother had brought it for him.

Without thinking, he jumped into the shower and let the hot water relax his muscles and clear his mind. As he dressed, he used Occlumency to let his mind go blank and not think. The only good thing his crazy aunt had done was to train him to be one of the best Occlumens, in Bellatrix's own words.

There were two guards waiting for him when he stepped back into the corridor. They each stood to his side and accompanied him as they followed the corridor to the end, walking towards two large wooden doors.

Draco closed his eyes and sighed slowly as the guards opened them, trying to remain calm.

All the Wizengamot members' eyes were on him as soon as he walked through the doorway. The guards made him walk to the centre of the room, where there was an iron cage, and they shoved him inside with abrupt movements.

It was crystal clear that they were looking forward to sending him to Azkaban.

He leaned his back against the metal bars and looked up, scanning the rows of wizards before him. In the front was the Minister of Magic, accompanied by none other than Minerva McGonagall.

Draco's eyebrows rose slightly at the sight of her. He hadn't expected his former teacher to be a member of the Wizengamot.

His grey eyes wandered to where the audience was and a knot formed in his stomach at the sight of his mother. There was no one else there, just several reporters, cameras included. Perfect, the image of Draco Malfoy walking out of that room in handcuffs would make the front page the next day.

Draco folded his arms and stared at the Minister again. He didn't intend to let them see the slightest emotion cross his face.

If he had to endure being tried and convicted, at least he would do it with dignity.

"Before us is Mister Draco Malfoy, here to stand trial for all the crimes he committed as a member of Lord V-Vol-Voldemort's followers," Kingsley stammered.

A smirk curved Draco's lips. They were all trying to be brave, but they still couldn't say the Dark Lord's name without fear and he had been dead for a month.

"He is accused of the murder of Albus Dumbledore along with the murder of two Muggles found dead near Malfoy Manor, attempted murder against Katie Bell and Ronald Weasley, allowing a group of Death Eaters into Hogwarts..."

Draco rolled his eyes and stopped listening. It didn't matter what he said, everyone had already condemned him before they knew what had really happened. He didn't pay attention again until he recognised a name.

"...Harry Potter, Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger are also here as witnesses. Let them in, please."

The two guards nodded and reopened the wooden doors. The golden trio stepped through and Draco's whole body immediately tensed without him being able to do anything about it.

His eyes searched for the source of the smell that was driving him mad and he realised that it was coming from Granger, who was passing very close to the cage he was in, heading towards the small witness bench.

Neither Potter nor Weasley gave him a glance, but she did. She turned her head for a second and her brown eyes met his.

And in that moment, Draco knew he was well and truly fucked.

Never in his worst nightmares could he have imagined that happening to him. His family secret was about to be revealed in front of everyone. He could feel his fingernails starting to grow longer and all his skin was tingling.

How was that possible? He had seen Granger during the battle, and he hadn't felt anything then.

Draco narrowed his eyes. His birthday. He was eighteen now, and surely his father had 'forgotten' to tell him that the Veela blood activated at that moment.

What a son of a bitch.

Shit, he had to get out of there as soon as possible. He looked away from the Minister, loosening the knot of his tie. He was starting to feel too hot and his time was running out.

"Minister, I request a recess. I'm not feeling well," he said aloud, trying not to let the anguish he was feeling show in his voice.

Kingsley raised both eyebrows in surprise and looked around. McGonagall nodded, as did the rest of the wizards in the front row.

"It's all right, Mr. Malfoy. You may go, we'll start again in half an hour."

Draco nodded, relieved, and exited the cage at a brisk pace as soon as one of the guards opened it. He pushed open the wooden doors and stepped out into the corridor, feeling the guards quicken their pace to follow him.

He returned to the cell area and waited until his cell was opened, then slipped back inside.

"Do you need any potion?" asked an auror who had also followed him.

"No, I just need a moment alone," Draco growled, clenching his fists and resting his forehead on the cold marble at the back of his cell.

The auror said nothing more and walked away, talking to the guards. He could no longer hear anything they said, he only felt a searing heat running through his body and a stabbing pain in his back.

He knew what that meant because Lucius had explained it to him several years ago. He was about to transform, and all because he had found his mate.

Draco took off his jacket and tore off his black shirt between gasps, throwing his tie to the floor. Something began to tear at the skin on his back and he bit down on his fist, trying not to scream. He didn't stop biting even when he tasted his own blood.

A female voice was sounding in the distance, but he couldn't identify it. He was crouched and trembling, staring at his hand. His fingernails had grown so long that it looked more like a claw.

He heard a crunch and cried out, dropping to the floor. Something soft brushed his arms and he saw silver feathers around him when he opened his eyes.

His new wings. Fuck, he'd never had anything hurt him so much before. Well, maybe the Cruciatus Curse that Voldemort had cast on him as a punishment more than once.

Huffing and still very shaky, he leaned on both hands and tried to get up. His right hand had a large wound where the marks of his teeth were visible and it was still bleeding.

"Draco!"

He looked up at the bars and saw his mother clinging to them, looking down at him with a frightened expression.

Draco stood up, panting, and flexed his arms and legs several times. At least the pain was gone and no one had seen him transform.

Only the Registrar of magical creatures knew that there was Veela blood in the Malfoy family, and that Lucius Malfoy was part Veela as was his father and his father's father. And now he would be part of that list.

"Why did this happen to you just now?" his mother asked, looking him in the eye.

"Today is my birthday, Mother," he replied in a dry voice.

"I know, but your father didn't transform for the first time until..." she began, but stopped talking and put a hand to her mouth in shock.

Draco sighed and glanced over his shoulder, noting the gigantic wings that were now in his back.

"Did you smell her? Is she in that room?"

"I want to see my body," he said, ignoring his mother's questions.

Narcissa looked around nervously. The guards were outside in the corridor, and she had managed to cast a silencing charm on the door before Draco started screaming.

She raised her wand and conjured a small square mirror inside her son's cell.

Draco stepped closer, frowning as he stared at his reflection. His face had become sharper and his eyes were no longer grey. They were now silver, just like his wings. He tried to move them and surprise crossed his face when they responded instantly to his wishes, fluttering gently.

"How long before I'm back to normal?" he asked, glancing at Narcissa.

She swallowed before answering.

"Your father also changed when he first saw me after his eighteenth birthday. It took him a few minutes to calm down and look completely human again."

Draco nodded and sat down on the mattress in one of the corners, careful not to crush his wings. He clasped his hands together, staring at his long fingernails. He had the impression that they were so strong he could tear a throat with them.

"Who is it, Draco?"

He looked up, meeting his mother's blue eyes full of concern.

"Hermione Granger."

Narcissa took a step back and blanched, holding a hand to her chest.

"That's the girl who…"

"Was tortured on the floor of our house? Yes, that girl," Draco replied grimly.

Narcissa sighed and ran a hand through her long blonde hair, which was half up.

"If we explain everything, I'm sure she'll…"

"No."

"No? What do you mean?"

Draco got to his feet, crossing his arms and giving her a serious look.

"We're not going to tell her anything, Mother. This stays between us."

Narcissa's eyes widened as never before and she moved closer to the bars again.

"But you'll die without her! You know that, don't you?"

"Yes, Father explained it all very well on my ninth birthday. If I ever see him again, I'll thank him for not warning me that this might happen. I would have loved for the whole bloody Wizengamot to know that I have Veela blood, and for my picture with these wings to be in The Prophet tomorrow."

"You need her, Draco. You have to talk to her."

"I said no," he growled in a deep voice.

Draco averted his gaze and took a deep breath. He had to relax before the guards came back so no one else would see him like that. His mother understood what he was trying to do and remained silent, but her face showed that she didn't agree and that the discussion was not over.

Slowly, Draco's nails began to recede and his skin tingled again. He felt the wings fold back into his back and begin to shrink.

A minute later, he heard his mother's relieved sigh and looked in the mirror. He was back to his old self, with dark circles under his eyes and paler than usual, but that was how he had looked since he was locked in there.

"Not a word to anyone, Mother. Promise me," Draco demanded, meeting Narcissa's gaze.

She bit her lower lip, shaking her head.

"Do you think I'm going to let my son die without doing anything?"

"Promise me," he repeated.

He hadn't raised his voice, but she detected the threat in his tone. If she told anyone his secret, Draco would never forgive her.

"Okay," she agreed, wiping away several tears that were falling down her cheeks.

Draco nodded and sighed, approaching the bars after getting dressed again and holding one of his mother's hands. She waved her wand and his black shirt was as good as new again.

"I need to know why," Narcissa whispered softly.

"I have insulted and humiliated her for years, you know that. And a few months ago, she was tortured in front of us and I did nothing to stop it. After all she has suffered because of me, I can't ask her for anything. Besides, she hates me. It's better this way, Mother. I'd rather die than spend a decade or two locked up in Azkaban," Draco replied, squeezing her hand gently.

Narcissa was still crying silently, her lower lip trembling.

"Couldn't you at least try?" she asked with a tinge of desperation in her voice.

Draco shook his head just as they heard footsteps in the outside corridor, on the other side of the door. Narcissa waved her wand again and the mirror disappeared. The two guards came back inside and she stepped back, letting them open the cell door.

"If you want to be present, you need to go there now," one of the guards said to her, frowning.

Narcissa nodded and after one last pleading glance at Draco she stepped out into the corridor, her heels clacking on the dark marble floor.

"Are you ready now, or are you going to wet your pants again?" the guard closest to Draco asked in a mocking voice.

He gave him a hateful glare and walked out of the cell, following them back into the Wizengamot room. Everyone was still in their seats, including the three witnesses.

As soon as he was inside the cage again, Draco looked directly at the Minister.

"I have decided not to accept the testimony of any witnesses."

Several people gasped in the room. Harry and Ron looked at each other, quizzical, while Hermione frowned at Draco.

"Do you understand that, without their testimony, your sentence is likely to be longer?" Kingsley asked, rather surprised.

"Yes, I understand."

"As you wish, then. The witnesses can either stay as an audience or leave."

Harry and Hermione exchanged a glance.

"We're staying," she replied quietly, looking over to where the Minister was standing.

Kingsley nodded and cleared his throat.

"How does the accused declare himself?" asked a blonde woman sitting on his right side.

Draco thought of the two murdered Muggles that had been mentioned, who he knew nothing about, and that it had been Severus Snape who had killed Dumbledore.

"Guilty."

"What?" said Harry, unable to control himself. He had been there that night, hidden under the Invisibility Cloak and petrified, and he knew perfectly well that Malfoy had not murdered Dumbledore.

"Silence in the hall!" the woman shouted. A lot of people had let out shouts of exclamation and Narcissa was sobbing.

"Draco Malfoy, we find you guilty of three murders, two attempted murders and conspiracy against the Ministry of Magic and the wizarding world in general as part of the followers of Lord Vo-Voldemort. You are sentenced to twenty-five years in Azkaban, beginning this very moment." Kingsley said in a deep voice, pounding his desk with a gavel.

The two guards standing near him grinned mischievously and pulled him out of the cage, conjuring handcuffs around his hands and ankles. The light of several cameras flashed around the room and Draco clenched his jaw, lowering his gaze.

"You will die without her, Draco!" shouted Narcissa, who had risen to her feet in an attempt to reach him but was being held back by three Wizengamot members.

"It's my choice," Draco muttered, looking at his mother for the last time.

Once in Azkaban, she would only be able to visit him once a month, and he wasn't entirely sure if he would still be alive after four weeks. According to what Draco had read, a half-Veela who rejected his mate had managed to survive seven weeks. That was the record, others hadn't even lasted three.

"I hope you enjoy it, you filthy son of a bitch," one of the guards whispered, gripping Draco's left arm a little too tightly and pushing him towards the wooden doors.

"Yes, hopefully you won't live to tell the tale. Neither will your dear dad," the other added, grinning.

Draco gave them a smirk that didn't reach his eyes. In a couple of months at most he would be dead, and he wouldn't have to endure the Azkaban guards or the nightmares caused by the Dementors, who still guarded the entrance to the magical prison.

The two guards scowled.

"What a crazy bastard. He looks like he can't wait to be locked up," the taller one growled, pushing him down the corridor towards the only fireplace that was connected to Azkaban by the Floo Network.

Inside the room, the members of the Wizengamot were still arguing amongst themselves and a woman was trying to comfort Narcissa, who was crying inconsolably.

Harry looked at his two best friends, who were just as shocked as he was.

"What the hell just happened?" he asked, confusion on his face.