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Her broken-hearted Veela

Chapter II: Armand Malfoy

…

"The most difficult thing in life is to know yourself."

…

What bothered him most about having to go to the library to do his research, was that she would almost certainly be there, and he didn't know how to feel about it. On the one hand, Draco was trying to avoid Hermione: He felt quite lightheaded and confused whenever she was around him, even from a distance. The thoughts his mind created were disconcerting: This internal battle of his, debating whether or not he wanted her, was beginning to not only exhaust him, but disturb him. And it was exactly for that reason, because he didn't want to feel disturbed, that he, on the other hand, was determined to discover what was going on. And thus, taking stubborn steps, he entered the library. – And most surprisingly, she wasn't there.

As decisive as he was about this entire ordeal, he knew there was a problem: The Slytherin had absolutely no idea where to begin looking for any kind of evidence. After all, the books in the shelves weren't organised by symptoms, but by authors and genres. Draco had never cared to know who wrote what book, unless it had brilliant reputation to live up to, and so it seemed logical to him not to begin his search looking for an author, but rather for a genre. So, considering what had stood out to him when he'd analysed some of his changes, there were two genres that came to mind: Wizarding Psychology and Healing Magic. – Letting out a miffed sigh, the blonde picked up some books of said categories, and went to find an empty spot where he could read peacefully, without being interrupted.

Wizarding psychology was highly interesting. The thick book he'd chosen, 'The psyche of Magic', had various chapters regarding mental illnesses, which, in essence, were long lists of all possible syndromes, and not too many chapters regarding the psychology of magical creatures. He began to read about psychological disorders, and as it turned out, conditions were not only described in a scientific fashion, describing what the condition was and what symptoms were to be expected, but there was a real-life case attached to every ailment. For example, the Longbottom's case was under a section called 'insane by torture'. Draco knew that Neville's parents had been respected Aurors within the wizarding community who'd been tortured by Death Eaters and landed in Saint Mungo's, and that was exactly what was written in that book. A chill ran down his spine. Somehow, that paragraph in particular had made him feel uncomfortable.

As time went by, Malfoy was still very focussed on his reading, yet he was becoming increasingly frustrated. He'd spent hours paying attention to what could happen to a wizard's psyche given a specific scenario. And even though he was certain that some of the things listed on those chapters could very well apply to him, considering that Riddle abused his parents' hospitality at Malfoy Manor whenever he pleased, and also considering that his evil, insane aunt was locked away in Azkaban; there was nothing in those mental-illness chapters that stood out to Draco as a diagnosis of what was happening to him. Thus, feeling somewhat disheartened, he tossed the book aside and grabbed the Healing Magic one, forgetting about the magical creatures' chapters.

'The Healer's Guide' exasperated the blonde. It wasn't just the fact that the book's information was all about common knowledge; what bothered him was that the issues enlisted were quite minor, and he was searching for something major, something different. – He was completely and utterly convinced that there had to be a rare syndrome that made him so obsessive-possessive and made him look astonishingly beautiful at the same time, and that ought to be in that damned book!

Furiously, he flipped some pages… – No, he didn't want to know how to cast away a broken bone!

…And then he flipped some more. – No, he didn't want to know what potion to brew when people caught a cold!

He lost his temper. All of his patience was gone. Fed up, Draco groaned and threw 'The Healer's Guide' onto the floor, not caring if Madame Pince was going to take points from Slytherin for his behaviour. Screw those meaningless house points, all he was preoccupied about was this situation he found himself in – And inevitably, whilst unbeknownst to her, Granger as well–. Reluctantly, he wished she was there. She'd know where to look, she'd know what to do, ever the bookworm that she was! She'd be there, by his side, and he'd be at peace with himself.

What? No, no, no!

Draco bitterly let out an enraged groan. He was getting sick and tired of these thoughts. He ran one hand through his silky hair and pulled not too lightly, as he formed a fist with the other, slamming hard on the table. The Slytherin felt some quite powerful anger rush through his veins. The frustration, the indignation, the anguish and the anxiety were, at that moment in time, simply too much for him to handle. He couldn't understand why his mind was paying him all of these dirty tricks, and the more he tried to do his research, so that he could be able to, at least grasp the concept of what was happening; the less he comprehended. And so, his efforts seemed to be futile, making him feel so incompetent. So amateurish, as if he'd never done any kind of thorough research before. He felt unskilled, unqualified, helpless and most certainly useless. – He angrily gritted his teeth: He had had about enough.

Draco lost his usually well-composed poise, as he, in the heat of that moment, grabbed 'The psyche of Magic' and, with all of the rage and force his being contained, threw it against the shelve in front of him. Once the book had fallen onto the floor, it was left open on page 394. The title read:

Magical Creatures: Veela.

Before Malfoy closed the book, something very special caught his eye: On the upper right-side corner, right under the title of that section, there was an image of a male Veela, according to said title. The creature possessed platinum blonde hair, greyish eyes, and quite the pale skin tone. His physiognomy looked dignified, elegant, gallant, courtly. It was the representation of an extremely beautiful man with extremely beautiful features. Interestingly, Draco was both pleased with himself and somewhat suspicious. Leaving aside the fact that the Veela was strikingly graceful, he also had a remarkable resemblance with him. And so, he read the name below the picture:

Armand Malfoy.

Draco told himself to take a long, deep breath. Breathe in, breathe out.

Armand Malfoy.

Draco lightly pinched the bridge of his nose, as he tightly closed his eyes and shook his head. Once again, he told himself to slowly breathe in and breathe out; he needed to calm down.

Armand Malfoy.

Armand Malfoy was the very first Malfoy who had emigrated from France to Great Britain. He was the reason that Draco could call Malfoy Manor his home, it had been Armand's legacy to the generations that came after him; all because the King had gifted him the mansion. – Armand Malfoy had been the legend his parents would tell him stories about, a legendary man who had come along with the Norman invasion, befriending William the Conqueror, King of England back in 1066. They would tell him about the pureblooded wizard so that the young Slytherin would never forget about his roots.

And right there, in that book, he saw Armand's face – The face of a Veela. The face of a magical creature.

Reluctantly, Draco grabbed the book from the floor and started to read:

'Veela are semi-human magical beings, they are nymph-like creatures in Slavic mythology; usually they are beautiful women with white-gold or platinum hair and skin that shines as bright as the moon. Men are less common, but there are few Veela males, nonetheless. A fine example being Armand Malfoy, depicted on the right. Veela's looks are hypnotically seductive to almost all people. Veela are native to Bulgaria.'

Rubbing his chin in deep thought, he reckoned that he'd found one of the answers he'd been seeking. Oddly enough, after all of his exhausting research, Malfoy wasn't completely satisfied yet. Yes, after having found that helpful piece of information, he was more at ease knowing that he understood now that he was part Veela, though he still had many questions. What did it mean to be part Veela? What were the consequences? What were the quirks and perks to being a Veela? What did it have to do with Granger? But the burning question that bothered him most was: If his parents had known all along, why did they hide it from him?

Seeing that Armand was a Veela, and seeing that he'd passed on that trait down to all generations to come, there was no doubt in Draco's mind that this Veela thing was genetic. So surely his parents would be open to clarify some things for him; surely, they would explain.

Luckily, winter break was just around the corner.

…

Four o'clock in the afternoon. That was tea time at Malfoy Manor.

Draco's parents had always made an effort to teach their son that being on time was one of the biggest virtues in life. Being on time meant to be respectful of the other person's time, because otherwise, their time would go to waste. And because Draco had so many questions, he wanted to keep it respectful. Otherwise, he risked not getting any answers.

Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy entered the big living room, and they were headed towards the large English sofa in front of the dimly lit fireplace. Both sat down, joining Draco. Once all three of them sat comfortably, the house elves brought a kettle with boiling water, Narcissa's favourite tea – Assam Leaf loose tea –, and two bowls of puff pastries. Then, the house elves disappeared, leaving the family to enjoy their time together.

As it was typical, silence took over the large chamber as the Malfoys were savouring their tea cups. No milk, no sugar, no honey. Assam tea had an incredibly diverse profile, so adding any other flavour would probably ruin its refined taste, which largely depended on how it was brewed anyway. Narcissa had told the elves specifically that she'd wished for a second brew, because the liquor had a very nutty aroma which relaxed her; contrary to the very earthy taste of the first brew, which only seemed to grate on her nerves. On that note, Lucius agreed with her. And so, the more they drank, the more and more at ease they felt.

Perfect. Now was the time.

Putting his cup down, Draco cleared his throat, earning his parents' attention.

"Mother, Father." He spoke, his gaze locked on the ashes in the fireplace, "As lovely as it is to be here having a nice cup of tea, I have some questions to ask you."

"Ask away, dear."

Narcissa gently gestured him with her hand to keep talking. Lucius closed his eyes and took another sip.

"You see, I was at the library the other day, doing some research, because I've discovered something rather interesting about myself." He said, side-eyeing his father, as if giving him a hint of where this conversation was going to lead them, "This was a gradual process, it happened over the years. But, a couple of weeks ago, I had an epiphany, if you will. I couldn't let go of the feeling that I was different, but I couldn't pinpoint what exactly made me so different from the rest… Aside from my good looks and charming ways."

"Draco, it's not very becoming of you to gloat so much about your looks." Lucius scoffed, taking yet another sip, "You said you had an epiphany, my son. What was it about?"

He shook his head. Clearly, his father hadn't noticed what he was trying to really tell him. Draco hadn't been trying to gloat, but it would be rather pointless to try to explain it to his father, so he decided to let it go and focus on what was really of importance.

"I'm part Veela." He bluntly stated. "And finding out about it, was quite marvellous, really. You've always taught me the most fascinating things about Armand Malfoy, yet you failed to mention that he was a Veela?"

…

Weeeee! Chapter two's up! Let's see how things are going to get!

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See you on the next one! x

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Skyselisse