Disclaimer: I don't own anyone....sadly.....yes.....If only all of us could own just a little bit of these hot sexy men......yeah......
Summary: Harry just learned that he's a Veela.....and who's his mate? I BET YOU CAN GUESS! MANY MANY PAIRINGS! There's D/H and one other but I'm not going to tell you. Hee hee. It's all slash though. Unless I decide to add some Her/R into this. Once Now you can all safely assume this is in Draco's POV unless otherwise noted.
I watch the men in front of me with great caution. I make sure to have around 10 feet of clearance in front of me. Well, until I started looking at my feet and they both (purposely!) slowed down and I ended up right next to them. Or they ended up right next to me. Whichever way you choose to look at it. Half full. Half empty. Well, as soon as we got to the main staircase Severus started to head down, and I followed him, or at least started, but he turned around.
"Mr. Malfoy, you will follow Mr. Potter to your new dormitory."
"How does he know where it is?"
"Yeah, how do I know where it is? I'm going to the Gryffindor common room."
"How wrong you are Mr. Potter. The paintings will show you the way. So will the staircases." He gave a quick 'smile' before turning and heading downstairs.
"Well this is just bloody lovely." I cross my arms in front of my chest and just look at the other boy...man...boy...HIM in front of me.
"Shall we go?" He asks me a simple question. And I respond by simply raising my eyebrow.
"I suppose."
Silence. For quite a while. Until I finally get up the nerve. We'd probably climbed about five flights of stairs.
"So why do you have to lead?"
He stops so abruptly I slam into his back.
"Maybe because you'll do that if you lead."
Nice answer, Gryffindor.
"Well, I wouldn't have if you weren't walking so slow."
"Oh come off it."
He finally turns around.
"Well at least now I can see your face."
"Now now, no fighting boys, just keep heading up the stairs."
We both look towards the voice coming from the picture on our right. Sylvia the Squasher.
"Squasher? Why are you called that?"
I'm curious, not just because it's a woman, but because I'm afraid she might squash us.
"I carried this club around you see?" She pointed to the club in her left hand. "And squashed everything in my path."
"That's nice, let's go Harry."
"Way ahead of you."
So we sprint, and sprint, along the way getting little pickup notes from all the paintings pushing us forward.
"When – huff – will – huff – this – huff – end?"
I can barely breath. I never knew I was this out of shape, but Harry I look up to see is at least a floor above me.
"Wait for me at least?"
"Why should I wait now when I have to spend my whole life with you?"
Good point.
"Only 5 more floors."
"Oh shove it, you're not walking this, don't give me that bull."
The painting was quite taken aback, but I'll just apologize later. I keep climbing and when I get to the top, Harry is barely out of breath and my head feels like it's caving in. I take a hold of his arm just in time before my legs give out. Great, now I have to depend on a Gryffindor to carry me-
"I'm not going to carry you."
Well that solves that problem.
"I guess I'll just crawl then."
"I guess you will."
I snort. He doesn't even have the decency...
But! It turns out that being annoying can really get you what you want.
"Ohhhh...it hurts sooooo much...."
"Shut up."
"But it huuuuuurrrrrttttssss..."
"Shut up!"
"Ohhhhhh.....uuuuuggggggghhhh...."
"Fine, climb on."
Works every time.
Well, eventually we get to the room, not that bad looking actually, we each have separate bedrooms, decorated with our house colors. There's a nice living room, with a fireplace, and a couple of couches, decorated in reds, greens, and browns. Nice earthy tones. The bathroom is pink...enough said I think?
So we get comfortable and it comes time to decide what we want to do about dinner. Do we stay in the comfort of our own "home"? or do we face the masses...
"And drown in puddles of our own demise?"
My words exactly. Except out of his mouth.
"I choose life."
Surprising for a Gryffindor to say.
"Fine, we'll stay in."
It's definitely fine with me. And now, what to eat is the question?
"What do you like to eat?"
I shrug.
"Mostly anything as long as it's good quality."
"Well, then you might want to make the food, because I'm not sure that It's going to be that good if I make it."
I smirk.
"Go ahead, try me."
"I always thought you were a spoiled little brat."
Who said I wasn't?
But before I could actually ask the question he romped off to go make dinner. Fine then, just leave me alone. At least it's alone with my thoughts.
Alone with my thoughts of what has actually happened all today. I've been told today, that 1) I'm gay, which I guess explains the nice earthy tones comment earlier. 2) My godfather is gay, which surely explains the decorations of his room. And 3) that I am to live with Harry Potter, and that I am suredly going to fall in love with him.
Just a normal day right?
How does someone deal with news like this? I mean. I'm not sure I can, truthfully. I just don't...
Oh great, now I'm crying. A Malfoy never cries. Well, just this once...
And now he comes in the room. Oh now, he's hugging me. Leave it up to a Gryffindor.
"Get off of me."
"Are you ok?"
"Just go away."
"Just trying to be helpful."
"Well, be helpful by finishing dinner."
"It's done, just so you know. But I'm eating in my room since you obviously don't want to be with me."
"Good."
"Fine."
This is just a great start isn't it?
He made pasta. Not one of my favorites, mainly because I'm a vegetarian, and he loaded this up with meat sauce! I'll deal. I'll scrape it off or something.
"I'll probably die from this you know."
I yell at him into his room.
"Die from what?"
"The dead animal spread all over one of my daily doses of bread."
I hear a snort from his room.
"Scrape it off."
"I did, but its dead juices are still all over my NOODLES!"
"Well screw you!"
"No thank you!"
Pause. Then,
"That's not what I meant!"
"Don't give me the opportunity to squeeze your words Potter, it could be your biggest mistake."
He comes walking into the room.
"What? Gonna turn me into Dark Voldy? Oohh! I'm scared!"
That does it. I pin him against the wall faster than he knew anything was happening.
"Don't you ever say that I serve that ugly, thing, ever again. I can't belive..."
"Look I'm sorry. I didn't know, now could you kindly let go of me?"
I finally, for the first time look into his eyes. They're much more innocent than I thought.
"Draco?"
Much darker green than I had ever remembered them to be.
"Draco?"
I had never noticed how beaut-
"MALFOY!"
"What? I was just thinking!"
"Must have been awful deep thinking."
Nice Potter.
I let go of him and walk away with my hands up, feeling slightly contaminated.
"You're hands aren't burning are they?"
What?
"What?"
"Well, that's what happened when Quirrel touched me in our first year. You know, when he was being possessed by Voldemort."
He shrugs.
"No, they're not burning."
I walk into the bathroom to wash my hands.
I hear a snort from his direction.
"You're like a cat."
I stop and turn around.
"Why do you say that?"
"Because cat's always wash themselves after they eat."
Oh. I turn back to what I was previously doing. I turn the water heat to hot, and then cast a spell to make the water even hotter.
I hear another snort from his direction.
"What do you want now?"
"If your hands weren't burning before, they certainly will now."
I blow him off and put my hands under the steady stream of water.
"BLOODY HELL!"
"Told you."
Bloody Gryffindor.
"Shut up and get me some ice or something."
"That will make it worse."
"WORSE! How can it get any worse! I'm surprised I still have skin left on my hands!"
"Make the water cool, and run your hands under it."
Fine. So I turn the water to cool and dip my hands under, expecting more pain, I pull back after a split second. But, no pain. Bloody, know-it-all Gryffindor.
"Feels better doesn't it?"
He's standing in the doorway, leaning up against the frame.
I shrug. "I suppose."
"Get a wash cloth, run it under cool water, and drape it over your hands. No Quidditch for you tonight."
"What are you, my mother? And how do you know all this stuff?"
He shrugs. "I've had many burns, and I've learned the best ways of healing them."
Oh.
"I'm going to invite Ron and Hermione up tomorrow, hope you don't mind."
He walks back to the dark green couch in the center of the living room.
"I suppose I don't have a say in this?"
He smiles at me.
"Nope. But I promise I'll let you have your friends over. Anyway, we have Hogsmeade this weekend, so that will be some alone time with our friends."
"Yeah. Well, I guess I'm going to head off to bed."
"But it's only 7:30."
Bloody, know-it-all Gryffindor.
"Fine. I'll sit in here with you."
Silence. For quite a while. Seems like it should be 10pm by the time I ask the time.
"7:55."
Save me from this pit of despair.
"So what are characteristics of your type of veela's then?"
"You think I know? I found out the news at the same time you did."
Right. Silence again. And this time I swear it was at least 10pm when I asked what time it is.
"8:30."
But that would be too good to be true. At least he has something to do. He's reading a muggle book. Lord of the Rings, I believe it is.
"So what is your book about?"
"A ring."
Really, I couldn't gather from the cover.
"What about a ring?"
"An evil ring."
Really.
"Why is it so long then?"
"Because all these people are on a quest to destroy it. There's a wizard in it you know."
Really.
"And the name is..."
"Gandalf, well, Mithrandir technically, but everyone just calls him Gandalf."
Really.
"You would like them."
Really.
"How do you know?"
"You'd be surprised. I'm on the second book, so if you want to start on the first one," he throws it to me, "there it is."
"Thanks."
Chapter 1. A Long-Expected Party
I think that will be the end of this chapter. I think I can write more, but this seemed like a good ending... I will be gone for a week, but hopefully I will have time to write down SOME ideas for this story, and type it up when I get back. By the way, I'm sending out a call for a beta reader. If anyone is interested, you can email me. It should be in my profile! Review Please!!!
Summary: Harry just learned that he's a Veela.....and who's his mate? I BET YOU CAN GUESS! MANY MANY PAIRINGS! There's D/H and one other but I'm not going to tell you. Hee hee. It's all slash though. Unless I decide to add some Her/R into this. Once Now you can all safely assume this is in Draco's POV unless otherwise noted.
I watch the men in front of me with great caution. I make sure to have around 10 feet of clearance in front of me. Well, until I started looking at my feet and they both (purposely!) slowed down and I ended up right next to them. Or they ended up right next to me. Whichever way you choose to look at it. Half full. Half empty. Well, as soon as we got to the main staircase Severus started to head down, and I followed him, or at least started, but he turned around.
"Mr. Malfoy, you will follow Mr. Potter to your new dormitory."
"How does he know where it is?"
"Yeah, how do I know where it is? I'm going to the Gryffindor common room."
"How wrong you are Mr. Potter. The paintings will show you the way. So will the staircases." He gave a quick 'smile' before turning and heading downstairs.
"Well this is just bloody lovely." I cross my arms in front of my chest and just look at the other boy...man...boy...HIM in front of me.
"Shall we go?" He asks me a simple question. And I respond by simply raising my eyebrow.
"I suppose."
Silence. For quite a while. Until I finally get up the nerve. We'd probably climbed about five flights of stairs.
"So why do you have to lead?"
He stops so abruptly I slam into his back.
"Maybe because you'll do that if you lead."
Nice answer, Gryffindor.
"Well, I wouldn't have if you weren't walking so slow."
"Oh come off it."
He finally turns around.
"Well at least now I can see your face."
"Now now, no fighting boys, just keep heading up the stairs."
We both look towards the voice coming from the picture on our right. Sylvia the Squasher.
"Squasher? Why are you called that?"
I'm curious, not just because it's a woman, but because I'm afraid she might squash us.
"I carried this club around you see?" She pointed to the club in her left hand. "And squashed everything in my path."
"That's nice, let's go Harry."
"Way ahead of you."
So we sprint, and sprint, along the way getting little pickup notes from all the paintings pushing us forward.
"When – huff – will – huff – this – huff – end?"
I can barely breath. I never knew I was this out of shape, but Harry I look up to see is at least a floor above me.
"Wait for me at least?"
"Why should I wait now when I have to spend my whole life with you?"
Good point.
"Only 5 more floors."
"Oh shove it, you're not walking this, don't give me that bull."
The painting was quite taken aback, but I'll just apologize later. I keep climbing and when I get to the top, Harry is barely out of breath and my head feels like it's caving in. I take a hold of his arm just in time before my legs give out. Great, now I have to depend on a Gryffindor to carry me-
"I'm not going to carry you."
Well that solves that problem.
"I guess I'll just crawl then."
"I guess you will."
I snort. He doesn't even have the decency...
But! It turns out that being annoying can really get you what you want.
"Ohhhh...it hurts sooooo much...."
"Shut up."
"But it huuuuuurrrrrttttssss..."
"Shut up!"
"Ohhhhhh.....uuuuuggggggghhhh...."
"Fine, climb on."
Works every time.
Well, eventually we get to the room, not that bad looking actually, we each have separate bedrooms, decorated with our house colors. There's a nice living room, with a fireplace, and a couple of couches, decorated in reds, greens, and browns. Nice earthy tones. The bathroom is pink...enough said I think?
So we get comfortable and it comes time to decide what we want to do about dinner. Do we stay in the comfort of our own "home"? or do we face the masses...
"And drown in puddles of our own demise?"
My words exactly. Except out of his mouth.
"I choose life."
Surprising for a Gryffindor to say.
"Fine, we'll stay in."
It's definitely fine with me. And now, what to eat is the question?
"What do you like to eat?"
I shrug.
"Mostly anything as long as it's good quality."
"Well, then you might want to make the food, because I'm not sure that It's going to be that good if I make it."
I smirk.
"Go ahead, try me."
"I always thought you were a spoiled little brat."
Who said I wasn't?
But before I could actually ask the question he romped off to go make dinner. Fine then, just leave me alone. At least it's alone with my thoughts.
Alone with my thoughts of what has actually happened all today. I've been told today, that 1) I'm gay, which I guess explains the nice earthy tones comment earlier. 2) My godfather is gay, which surely explains the decorations of his room. And 3) that I am to live with Harry Potter, and that I am suredly going to fall in love with him.
Just a normal day right?
How does someone deal with news like this? I mean. I'm not sure I can, truthfully. I just don't...
Oh great, now I'm crying. A Malfoy never cries. Well, just this once...
And now he comes in the room. Oh now, he's hugging me. Leave it up to a Gryffindor.
"Get off of me."
"Are you ok?"
"Just go away."
"Just trying to be helpful."
"Well, be helpful by finishing dinner."
"It's done, just so you know. But I'm eating in my room since you obviously don't want to be with me."
"Good."
"Fine."
This is just a great start isn't it?
He made pasta. Not one of my favorites, mainly because I'm a vegetarian, and he loaded this up with meat sauce! I'll deal. I'll scrape it off or something.
"I'll probably die from this you know."
I yell at him into his room.
"Die from what?"
"The dead animal spread all over one of my daily doses of bread."
I hear a snort from his room.
"Scrape it off."
"I did, but its dead juices are still all over my NOODLES!"
"Well screw you!"
"No thank you!"
Pause. Then,
"That's not what I meant!"
"Don't give me the opportunity to squeeze your words Potter, it could be your biggest mistake."
He comes walking into the room.
"What? Gonna turn me into Dark Voldy? Oohh! I'm scared!"
That does it. I pin him against the wall faster than he knew anything was happening.
"Don't you ever say that I serve that ugly, thing, ever again. I can't belive..."
"Look I'm sorry. I didn't know, now could you kindly let go of me?"
I finally, for the first time look into his eyes. They're much more innocent than I thought.
"Draco?"
Much darker green than I had ever remembered them to be.
"Draco?"
I had never noticed how beaut-
"MALFOY!"
"What? I was just thinking!"
"Must have been awful deep thinking."
Nice Potter.
I let go of him and walk away with my hands up, feeling slightly contaminated.
"You're hands aren't burning are they?"
What?
"What?"
"Well, that's what happened when Quirrel touched me in our first year. You know, when he was being possessed by Voldemort."
He shrugs.
"No, they're not burning."
I walk into the bathroom to wash my hands.
I hear a snort from his direction.
"You're like a cat."
I stop and turn around.
"Why do you say that?"
"Because cat's always wash themselves after they eat."
Oh. I turn back to what I was previously doing. I turn the water heat to hot, and then cast a spell to make the water even hotter.
I hear another snort from his direction.
"What do you want now?"
"If your hands weren't burning before, they certainly will now."
I blow him off and put my hands under the steady stream of water.
"BLOODY HELL!"
"Told you."
Bloody Gryffindor.
"Shut up and get me some ice or something."
"That will make it worse."
"WORSE! How can it get any worse! I'm surprised I still have skin left on my hands!"
"Make the water cool, and run your hands under it."
Fine. So I turn the water to cool and dip my hands under, expecting more pain, I pull back after a split second. But, no pain. Bloody, know-it-all Gryffindor.
"Feels better doesn't it?"
He's standing in the doorway, leaning up against the frame.
I shrug. "I suppose."
"Get a wash cloth, run it under cool water, and drape it over your hands. No Quidditch for you tonight."
"What are you, my mother? And how do you know all this stuff?"
He shrugs. "I've had many burns, and I've learned the best ways of healing them."
Oh.
"I'm going to invite Ron and Hermione up tomorrow, hope you don't mind."
He walks back to the dark green couch in the center of the living room.
"I suppose I don't have a say in this?"
He smiles at me.
"Nope. But I promise I'll let you have your friends over. Anyway, we have Hogsmeade this weekend, so that will be some alone time with our friends."
"Yeah. Well, I guess I'm going to head off to bed."
"But it's only 7:30."
Bloody, know-it-all Gryffindor.
"Fine. I'll sit in here with you."
Silence. For quite a while. Seems like it should be 10pm by the time I ask the time.
"7:55."
Save me from this pit of despair.
"So what are characteristics of your type of veela's then?"
"You think I know? I found out the news at the same time you did."
Right. Silence again. And this time I swear it was at least 10pm when I asked what time it is.
"8:30."
But that would be too good to be true. At least he has something to do. He's reading a muggle book. Lord of the Rings, I believe it is.
"So what is your book about?"
"A ring."
Really, I couldn't gather from the cover.
"What about a ring?"
"An evil ring."
Really.
"Why is it so long then?"
"Because all these people are on a quest to destroy it. There's a wizard in it you know."
Really.
"And the name is..."
"Gandalf, well, Mithrandir technically, but everyone just calls him Gandalf."
Really.
"You would like them."
Really.
"How do you know?"
"You'd be surprised. I'm on the second book, so if you want to start on the first one," he throws it to me, "there it is."
"Thanks."
Chapter 1. A Long-Expected Party
I think that will be the end of this chapter. I think I can write more, but this seemed like a good ending... I will be gone for a week, but hopefully I will have time to write down SOME ideas for this story, and type it up when I get back. By the way, I'm sending out a call for a beta reader. If anyone is interested, you can email me. It should be in my profile! Review Please!!!