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A quick healing spell and many glares later, Madam Pomfrey returned to her
hide out to await their exit. She had cared for Veela women before, and it
was not a pleasant experience. So temperamental! She was sure it was all
those hormones.
In the other room, Harry sat on a hospital bed, sulking about his earlier behaviour. Had he really done that? If Draco repeated it to anyone, Hermione would never forgive him! Ron wasn't a problem at least. His self- control around Veela women was notoriously low. He would no doubt be fending Ron off of Malfoy's arse at every turn. Especially if she insisted on walking around half bloody naked!
"Why are you wearing that? Where are your pants?"
He couldn't believe he hadn't noticed sooner! Well, if he was honest with himself, he had. It just didn't seem to be the kind of thing you complain about at the time. Three words. Gift horse, mouth.
"They were uncomfortable! I have these big round hips now! I'll have you know that I had a rather slim and beautiful bum when I was a boy! NOT that my bum's big now, mind you. It's just a beautiful girl's bum."
Harry couldn't believe his ears. He had never heard anyone say they liked their own backside. How vain would you have to be to insist that BOTH your behinds were nice, in the same breath? And Harry had thought that she was an eloquent goddess not moments before. Her almost cockney drawl was NOT eloquent. Where an aristocrat got an accent like that, Harry would never know. Perhaps Malfoy thought it was cool or something. Looking back at the pouting girl who was no doubt upset he hadn't agreed, he had to ask another question.
"But surely you could have put on a hospital pair? They have them in all sizes, you know."
The utterly disgusted look this suggestion was greeted with made Harry wonder what he had said that was so wrong. He hoped she didn't have a problem with clothing. Well, he hoped she didn't have a problem with clothing when outside their room. That would make his new job much harder. In private, she could walk around naked if she insisted. He would just have to deal with. Take one for the team and all that.
"Are you joking, Scarhead? Have you SEEN the colour those things are? They're toothpaste green! Now, there's nothing wrong with green, don't get me wrong. I am a devoted Slytherin, after all! But 'toothpaste green' on my pail complexion? I'd look like some kind of junkie!"
Harry raised a brow in disbelief, which was mirrored by an equally disbelieving Professor Snape. Draco had to be joking! Who was going to see him? Who CARED? He really had turned Draco into a girl!
Snape's velvety voice cut into the silence,
"You remind me of your father more with every passing day. Would you like me to have a house elf mail over some of your mother's clothes so you have a colour scheme that agrees with you pallid complexion?"
Draco looked affronted and quickly replied,
"PALLID! I said pale not pallid! Look who's talking! At least I don't look like a vampire! What the hell kind of Veela has black hair and eyes, anyway?"
Snape got up with a small smile on his lips, decided to take that as a yes, and left the affronted blond and baffled brunet to their teenage nonsense. He loved Draco, really, but sometimes a 17 years old was a little to much for him. Ironic given his occupation.
After a few minutes of what was an awkward silence for Harry and a contemplative one for Draco, the girl suddenly spoke up.
"How big are you, Potter?"
Harry had no idea what she meant, his height or his weight. He wasn't entirely sure he was willing to give her either. Was she going to call him short? Fat, perhaps. No that was impossible, skinny is more like.
"I don't know."
This seem to perplex and surprise the blond,
"You don't know? You've never measured?"
Oh! Well, short it is. He debated over telling the truth, and like any teenage boy, decided to add an inch just in case.
"5'11. Why?"
Draco suddenly burst out in laughter and fell back on the bed in hysterics. Harry tried not to notice that her shirt rode up just a little. He really did. Honest!
"No Potter. Not that length! You do realise I'm a Veela right? I was gonna compare, you'd be convenient, if not that appealing."
She gave him a calculating look as he tried desperately to pretend he still had no idea what she wanted. What the HELL was going on?
Draco decided to give the boy a little concession,
"Well I suppose you're alright looking, except for the glasses. Pomfrey can fix that up, you know? And while I'm sure I could do better, it's a little hot in here (pointing to herself to emphasize it is not the room which is heating up) and I have no idea what to do with my hands and this anatomy! I get one command too, you know, from biting you. So I think I'll make it so you can't tell anyone anything personal about me. Got it? No personal disclosure! Now take off those clothes and give us a look!"
Harry was stunned. What the hell was that! He was not some gigolo who could be ordered around! In a firm and confident voice he answered her,
"No. I will not. I'm not here for your pleasure."
Draco pouted and leaned forward again.
"Awww, come on, Scarhead! Think of it as an interview for the wonderful job of fucking me blind! I'll have to figure something out by tonight, at any rate. And I don't fancy being the school slut. YOU can't tell anyone and you'll be in my rooms already. It's perfect, really!"
He was sure this was not normal. He called Madam Pomfrey back in and, with a heated and red face, explained why he thought that Miss Malfoy was 'broken'. To his somewhat relief/shock, she informed him with a frown at the girl that no, she was not broken. She was Veela. That WAS normal. And then Harry found himself promptly abandoned by the nurse, once again.
"POTTER! Come on! Look if your worried about Pomfrey, then we can go to our rooms. That old hag told me where they were, before she tried to feed me that junk. It had CHEESE on it! No wonder she's so round! I have a very delicate body to look after here. And a very delicate diet to go with it."
Continuing to ramble about the glory of being herself, the Malfoy girl grabbed his hand and dragged the bewildered boy off. What had happened to her? Where was the hate?
On the way to their rooms (Or as Harry was to find out only minutes later, room, no 's') he insisted on stopping by the library to borrow 'All you need to know about Veelas'.
It did not go unnoticed that Draco was progressively getting more 'friendly' as the night wore on, and at 11pm, the Boy-Who-Lived found himself pinned underneath a slightly glowing and sweating Veela, who insisted that he at least touch her with his hands if nothing else.
Magnetic attraction turned off or no, that was too much for him, and Harry woke the next morning considerable less virginal then he was when he went to bed.
In the other room, Harry sat on a hospital bed, sulking about his earlier behaviour. Had he really done that? If Draco repeated it to anyone, Hermione would never forgive him! Ron wasn't a problem at least. His self- control around Veela women was notoriously low. He would no doubt be fending Ron off of Malfoy's arse at every turn. Especially if she insisted on walking around half bloody naked!
"Why are you wearing that? Where are your pants?"
He couldn't believe he hadn't noticed sooner! Well, if he was honest with himself, he had. It just didn't seem to be the kind of thing you complain about at the time. Three words. Gift horse, mouth.
"They were uncomfortable! I have these big round hips now! I'll have you know that I had a rather slim and beautiful bum when I was a boy! NOT that my bum's big now, mind you. It's just a beautiful girl's bum."
Harry couldn't believe his ears. He had never heard anyone say they liked their own backside. How vain would you have to be to insist that BOTH your behinds were nice, in the same breath? And Harry had thought that she was an eloquent goddess not moments before. Her almost cockney drawl was NOT eloquent. Where an aristocrat got an accent like that, Harry would never know. Perhaps Malfoy thought it was cool or something. Looking back at the pouting girl who was no doubt upset he hadn't agreed, he had to ask another question.
"But surely you could have put on a hospital pair? They have them in all sizes, you know."
The utterly disgusted look this suggestion was greeted with made Harry wonder what he had said that was so wrong. He hoped she didn't have a problem with clothing. Well, he hoped she didn't have a problem with clothing when outside their room. That would make his new job much harder. In private, she could walk around naked if she insisted. He would just have to deal with. Take one for the team and all that.
"Are you joking, Scarhead? Have you SEEN the colour those things are? They're toothpaste green! Now, there's nothing wrong with green, don't get me wrong. I am a devoted Slytherin, after all! But 'toothpaste green' on my pail complexion? I'd look like some kind of junkie!"
Harry raised a brow in disbelief, which was mirrored by an equally disbelieving Professor Snape. Draco had to be joking! Who was going to see him? Who CARED? He really had turned Draco into a girl!
Snape's velvety voice cut into the silence,
"You remind me of your father more with every passing day. Would you like me to have a house elf mail over some of your mother's clothes so you have a colour scheme that agrees with you pallid complexion?"
Draco looked affronted and quickly replied,
"PALLID! I said pale not pallid! Look who's talking! At least I don't look like a vampire! What the hell kind of Veela has black hair and eyes, anyway?"
Snape got up with a small smile on his lips, decided to take that as a yes, and left the affronted blond and baffled brunet to their teenage nonsense. He loved Draco, really, but sometimes a 17 years old was a little to much for him. Ironic given his occupation.
After a few minutes of what was an awkward silence for Harry and a contemplative one for Draco, the girl suddenly spoke up.
"How big are you, Potter?"
Harry had no idea what she meant, his height or his weight. He wasn't entirely sure he was willing to give her either. Was she going to call him short? Fat, perhaps. No that was impossible, skinny is more like.
"I don't know."
This seem to perplex and surprise the blond,
"You don't know? You've never measured?"
Oh! Well, short it is. He debated over telling the truth, and like any teenage boy, decided to add an inch just in case.
"5'11. Why?"
Draco suddenly burst out in laughter and fell back on the bed in hysterics. Harry tried not to notice that her shirt rode up just a little. He really did. Honest!
"No Potter. Not that length! You do realise I'm a Veela right? I was gonna compare, you'd be convenient, if not that appealing."
She gave him a calculating look as he tried desperately to pretend he still had no idea what she wanted. What the HELL was going on?
Draco decided to give the boy a little concession,
"Well I suppose you're alright looking, except for the glasses. Pomfrey can fix that up, you know? And while I'm sure I could do better, it's a little hot in here (pointing to herself to emphasize it is not the room which is heating up) and I have no idea what to do with my hands and this anatomy! I get one command too, you know, from biting you. So I think I'll make it so you can't tell anyone anything personal about me. Got it? No personal disclosure! Now take off those clothes and give us a look!"
Harry was stunned. What the hell was that! He was not some gigolo who could be ordered around! In a firm and confident voice he answered her,
"No. I will not. I'm not here for your pleasure."
Draco pouted and leaned forward again.
"Awww, come on, Scarhead! Think of it as an interview for the wonderful job of fucking me blind! I'll have to figure something out by tonight, at any rate. And I don't fancy being the school slut. YOU can't tell anyone and you'll be in my rooms already. It's perfect, really!"
He was sure this was not normal. He called Madam Pomfrey back in and, with a heated and red face, explained why he thought that Miss Malfoy was 'broken'. To his somewhat relief/shock, she informed him with a frown at the girl that no, she was not broken. She was Veela. That WAS normal. And then Harry found himself promptly abandoned by the nurse, once again.
"POTTER! Come on! Look if your worried about Pomfrey, then we can go to our rooms. That old hag told me where they were, before she tried to feed me that junk. It had CHEESE on it! No wonder she's so round! I have a very delicate body to look after here. And a very delicate diet to go with it."
Continuing to ramble about the glory of being herself, the Malfoy girl grabbed his hand and dragged the bewildered boy off. What had happened to her? Where was the hate?
On the way to their rooms (Or as Harry was to find out only minutes later, room, no 's') he insisted on stopping by the library to borrow 'All you need to know about Veelas'.
It did not go unnoticed that Draco was progressively getting more 'friendly' as the night wore on, and at 11pm, the Boy-Who-Lived found himself pinned underneath a slightly glowing and sweating Veela, who insisted that he at least touch her with his hands if nothing else.
Magnetic attraction turned off or no, that was too much for him, and Harry woke the next morning considerable less virginal then he was when he went to bed.
