A/N: So I actually had this story written for QL, but my accident happened then I couldn't submit on time and I took that break, but I felt I should post it since it was sitting in my drive. Please enjoy! :)

N: Veela! AU

Word Count: 1,648

Disclaimer: Nope. Never Have, Never Will.

Humans were never meant to fly

Draco Malfoy stares blankly at the water rushing underneath the bridge, letting the cool breeze mess up his usually immaculate hair (though it was anything but this past month) and listening to the chaotic sounds of cars and strangers rushing by him. He closes his eyes and lets his tight grip on the rail separating the water and himself loosen. The wind blowing in his face feels oddly relaxing, as does the boisterous chatter that fades into a mild buzzing sound.

It's almost enough to lull him to sleep.

Yet there's still that constant reminder of his burning lungs and the heat that emits from within him that doesn't let the darkness appear. The clock on his chest feels like a brand that's just being burned onto his skin instead of a mark that's been on his body for as long as he can remember. It's in this moment that he knows he's almost run out of time.

Tick. Tock.

His clock is ticking down, and there's only one millimeter left until it's completely blackened.

Just one tick tock left.

oOOo

Draco pursed his lips, his eyes scrunched up and his arms crossed. He tapped his foot on the floor in a nervous manner. "I don't understand."

His father heaved a sigh, letting his irritation lace into his voice. He leaned back against the couch, fixing Draco with a hard look. "It's simple. You're a Veela. I know your mother's told you the stories before."

"When I was a baby," Draco muttered, hating the fact that he had to remind his father that he was already ten. "I don't remember them anymore."

"For Salazar's sake, a Veela is attractive to others and that might be harmful in the future. You're a full fledged Veela." Lucius pinched the bridge of his nose with his index finger and thumb. "However, do not forget the clock you have. It's important."

Draco pouted, absentmindedly placing his right hand on his heart-where the tattoo of a clock counting down was. "What does it do?"

"Now, this is the part where it gets tricky. Because you're a full fledged Veela, you must find your mate in time." Lucius sighed again upon seeing Draco's confused expression. "Your mate is the only one who can stop that clock. If you don't manage to find your mate, then something horrible happens."

The horrible part was the only thing Draco really understood, but he nodded as if he comprehended every word his father spoke.

Only silence greeted him when he introduced himself at the PTSD Hogwarts class. He hadn't expected anything else, not really. He didn't mind the whispers that immediately broke out when he entered the room, or the glares which held fear and hatred that carved holes in his skin, or the godawful whimpers and trembling.

"Uh, well, thanks for joining us," Professor Carrie announced loudly, giving the room pointed looks as if nobody was allowed to refuse his presence. "Now that everybody knows each other's names, let's get started! Grab a partner to proceed with the next activities."

There was a long uncomfortable silence as the group of students stared at teacher in reluctance before the sounds of people shuffling around and chairs scraping the floor were heard throughout the room. Draco observed as the students partnered up with people they already knew such as friends as opposed to that one person you randomly speak to on occasion. It was a no brainer for Draco to see that he probably wouldn't get a partner, at least not willingly. So it surprised him a good deal when Hermione Granger pulled up a chair and sat down right in front him with a small timid smile on her face but a look of determination in her doe eyes.

"What are you doing?" As soon as the words slipped past his lips in what seemed to be a much more aggressive voice then he originally wanted to use, he closed his mouth and glanced awkwardly at his shoes. He muttered 'sorry' softly, refusing to look at the Gryffindor girl.

"It's fine. I think I might've startled you," she spoke with a hint of amusement in her voice. "You didn't have a partner, so that's why I'm here."

Draco felt a surge of anger and lifted his head to glare straight into her eyes. "I don't need your pity, Granger."

She merely scoffed, her gaze turning hard and her hands clenching the paper in her hands. "I'm not here to pity you. You were alone, and I came. Simple." She glanced around the room and shrugged. "None of your house mates are here anyway. What do you have to lose in being my partner?"

"My sanity," he muttered, though his voice wasn't as gruff as before and the embarrassment and gratitude were evident in his tone.

The smile she have him then with her sparkly brown eyes crinkled (though he didn't describe them as sparkly until much later) and her lips curled upwards in half a smile came to be one of many.

It was like being dozed in a bucket of cold ice water that was so freezing it burned him. That was how Draco felt when Hermione, caring and loving Hermione, stared at him now with her brown doe eyes full of sympathy and her pink chapped lips turned down into a grimace as her hands twisted nervously in her lap.

He hated that expression.

It was the same expression she wore when she didn't receive a hundred percent on an exam, when she tasted something bile and she just wanted to spit it out, when she had just experienced a loss, or, right now, when she was at loss for words.

She opened her mouth but closed it again. She repeated this action at least three other times before heaving a heavy, tired sigh.

"I . . . understand," he whispered, his voice too hoarse for his liking. "It's difficult to answer but if you just think about it and look inside your heart," he continued, his voice breaking while tears pricked in his eyes.

"Oh, Draco," she began, her hands reaching for his clenched fists until she managed to intertwine their fingers. "I love you, you know that."

They were the words he wanted to hear. So why was his heart full of dread? Why did she look so sad? No, that wasn't it.

Her eyes were sad for him.

Hermione took a deep breath. "I'm engaged." She let go of his hands and pulled of her left glove. "I was going to tell you. Today, actually." She laughed weakly, the ring was luxurious and ostentatious. "I wanted to surprise you."

He felt a horrible feeling in his chest and he tried to control his breathing. He let go of her hand and pulled his own closer to him. "Who?" he managed to say, though he already knew.

She grimaced, twirling the ring on her finger. "Ron. He proposed yesterday, and I said yes." Hermione bit her lip, her eyes falling on her engagement ring. "I-I wouldn't expect you to understand, but . . . I've been dreaming of that moment since I was fourteen. I loved him, you know? So much that it suffocated me. I know we weren't in a relationship, and he asked so suddenly. He said that we were destiny. I . . . wasn't going to say yes."

He wondered how he didn't notice the ring before, even if it was covered by her glove.

"But he's my first love. I'm supposed to be with him." Hermione smiled, her eyes pooling with tears that she quickly wiped away. "A part of me wants my childish dreams to come true."

Draco could barely process her words. He needed to get out of here. He needed air.

"I have to leave," he declared, pushing his chair out behind him and almost running out of the coffee place. He ignored Hermione's soft protest.

It was only when he was a good block away that he realized the burning sensation he felt was coming from his chest.

Tick. Tock.

From his clock.

oOOo

Just one minute left until the hand on his clock moves.

The noisy world around him is unimportant as he focuses solely on his breathing and his clock. His magic slowly surrounds him and not a single soul can tell where he is now. It doesn't matter if he cast the disillusionment charm on himself in the middle of the muggles. No one was looking at him anyway. (Though he doesn't want them to witness this either way.)

He lets out a shaky breath and climbs onto the ledge of the bridge. There's not much time left now. He's ready.

Long ago the idea of accepting death sounded so terrifying to him. As he stands now on the brink of life, he can't think of anything else he'd rather do. His chance at love is done. She deserves to be with him. With the man who can bring her happiness better than he ever could.

Besides, men like him don't get a happy ending.

Just ten more seconds.

Draco Malfoy laughs softly, enjoying this calm cool breeze. He never really had a chance anyway. He closes his eyes and effectively blocks everything from him. Gone are the buildings and cars. Gone are all the people walking right behind him. (Although because his eyes are closed he misses the sight of a familiar bushy haired female walking behind him.) He only sees darkness ahead, and it's a comforting sight.

Humans were never meant to fly, but he was never human in the first place.

A shudder runs through him and he feels the transformation occur in him. His wings unfold behind him before he curls them around himself. As a Veela without a mate, the burning sensation hurts so bad.

Like a heartbreak.

He lets himself fall.

Tick Tock the clock had stopped.