Draco silently sulked, thinking up suitable ways of disembowelling his dark haired friend without being caught and charged with the use of underage cosmetic magic. So far the furthest he had got in his plan stretched to dragging Blaise down a dimly lit corridor and hexing him to pieces.
The boy in question glanced at the silent Draco beside him, now free from his enchantments and fully mobile, though the only movement he had offered had been his middle finger.
Blaise glanced around the room for the forth time in the space of two minutes, his curious eyes roaming over numerous mystical objects, including a smoking box, a tin pipe which seemed to be spitting bubbles, and an eerie looking medallion hanging from a candle stick, in the top right of a deep mahogany shelf.
"That would be the Indescresible Pendant, capable of many, many dangers in our now perilous free world," lightly commented Professor Dumbledore, gracefully gesturing at the pendant, his eyes betraying his indifferent tone. Draco's head lifted up slightly with a thoughtful expression.
Dumbledore gazed at the two students sitting infront of his desk, the youngest of the Malfoy family, with a stiff posture, and a bashful looking Blaise Zambini. He slowly turned and sat himself down onto his golden chair, placing his gnawed hands placidly on the wooden tabletop. Linking his long fingers he bowed his head slightly in thought before speaking.
"Although, I do not believe pure curiosity drove you to bewitch a fellow student and, ahem, escort him to my office," coughed Dumbledore, a faint twinkle in his aged eyes.
Blaise cleared his throat, the sound echoing in the now silent room and began, "Well, I intervened shall we say..."
Dumbledore waved a hand for him to continue. Blaise glanced at Draco, who still sat as rigidly as he had from first arriving at the headmasters' office.
"To help Draco," Draco snorted at this. Blaise shot him a look and continued, "You know of his families origins don't you Sir?"
"Do you ask; do I know of our Mr Malfoy's veela blood?" Dumbledore sat back into his chair and faint amusement glittered in his eyes at the response of the younger Malfoy to his statement.
The pale boy started, and pure fury brimmed in his barely cloaked eyes. He slowly turned his head to look at what he know considered to be his enemy, and glared.
Blaise merely glanced back at the intense glare, smirked slighty and murmured, "You can tell him now if you would like."
Silver eyes dropped in anger and the pale boy ground his teeth quietly enough to not be noticed. Blaise intended to peek Dumbledore's interest until Draco was forced to tell him. Clever plan of Blaise's, though not quite clever enough. He smiled politely at Blaise and felt a pleasant smugness overcome him at Blaise's puzzled reaction to his polite smile. Draco languidly stretched, picked himself off the cushioned chair and spoke, "Professor Dumbledore, this was nothing more than a childish joke at my expense, we shall leave, not bothering you with such trivial matters."
He began to stride towards the door, reaching his agile fingers out to clasp the brass handle, pausing suddenly as he registered the words echoing in the circular room.
"Why Mr Malfoy, how ever did you weaken the pull for such an allotted amount of time?" said Dumbledore, his face reflecting pure innocence.
Oh sod.
Slowly, Draco arched his fingers back from the door handle, his shoulders tensing; and spun round on an expensive suede loafer to face Dumbledore.
"How did you...?" the pale prince trailed off and frowned in deep confusion, the battle to keep his frustation from being seen evident in his tense body language.
Blaise watched with light curiosity at the rapid cluster of emotions flitting over the blonde's face, before settling on the blank canvas Draco often wore.
"Ah, Mr Malfoy I have known for some time, but indeed, I did wish to wait for your eventual arrival at my office to discuss the topic in question, albeit, I did not expect this rather, forced, mode of transportation," intoned Dumbledore, a soft smile alighting his tired features.
Draco resignedly twisted completely away from his exit and strode back over to his earlier occupied chair, knowing he had lost the battle, and that he would seek revenge on Blaise. He gracefully slumped into the chair, extending long legs, and sighed softly.
"I have a version, if you like, of the 'Indescresible Pendant' that you spoke of earlier, but unlike your pendant, my, 'Vindescrisate Pendant' was created specially for a family member in the late 1950's for a jealous lover, wishing to control the veela pull. The lover in question had fallen into a rather, shall we say, unstable relationship with his veela counterpart. As a result of the veela pheromones, he became viciously covetous of others looking at his lover, thus he forced his lover to wear a specially created pendant to repel all other suitors petitioning for her attention."
Dumbledore frowned in slight confusion, "But, Mr Malfoy, how would this pendant, I presume in your care, aid to your situation?" he queried.
Draco looked up at Dumbledore, and glanced idly at Blaise. "The pendant in question, in my care, has been adapted as a result of my three quarter veela blood, thus the pendant no longer blocks others against veela pheromones, but blocks myself against my own pheromones," said Draco, straightening his shoulders.
"But how exactly would that help? How strong is the pendant?"
Blaise questioned, knowing that Draco would tell him now that he had no choice, as Dumbledore surely would want to know the answer to his question as well. He has questioned Draco on the power of the pendant previsouly, but the blonde had always sidetracked the question, this in turn, had only driven Blaise's curiosity onwards.
Dumbledore watched this exchange quietly, noting how Blaise's voice dropped a semi tone in the question. Dumbledore frowned and side tracked Blaise's question by voicing another to Draco.
"I trust you came into your heritage on your seventeenth birthday last fortnight?" he questioned.
"Yes." Draco replied almost sullenly, hanging his head. "When I inherited the full weight of my veela responsibility, the pendant allowed me to ignore the pull towards the person my veela instinct chose as the person who completed me."
"So this pendant has provided you with ignorant bliss for a fortnight?" nodded Dumbledore.
"Yes," replied Draco quickly, looking as if he would rather be fed to flobber worms than continue to partake in the conversation.
"Then, I must ask, why have you found yourself in my office?" said Dumbledore, hastily adding in the rest of his sentence at the look on the pale boy's face. "Whether that may have been a voluntary or not."
Blaise spoke up then, "Because the pendant can only work for a while, before eventual becoming less and less effective, down to the point where Draco can no longer ignore what his veela instinct is attempting to compel him to."
All eyes in the room strayed to the silvery eyes belonging to the person in the matter. Dumbledore pondered both boys for a quick minute, "Thus, the pendants control has already begun to slowly disintegrate?" he prompted, his gaze resting on Blaise.
"Yes, and its having nasty effects," demanded a now adamant Blaise, "After Draco explained about the pendant to me, on the eve of his birthday, he mentioned the control weakening over time, and since then he has been such a ba-"
"Now, now, Blaise," cut in Dumbledore, and averted his gaze to the silver haired boy once more, "I see, so, Mr Malfoy, what do you propose we do? Surely it would no just be far less complicated to listen to the pull?"
"No," growled Draco, "It will never work, I can, I can, get a new pendant, try some sort of potion, Severus would help, yes, I can-"
"Draco," commanded the headmaster, stopping the pale boys ramblings instantly, causing a faint flush to rise up his aristocratic features, "I feel that you can no longer ignore this responsibility that has been placed on your shoulders. Your veela instincts and attributes cannot be left untamed, and as a result, become a potential danger to others within this school. Something must be done. Now tell me, who is this potential veela counterpart you are fighting against so determinedly?
Disbelief glowed in the depths of slate eyes, as Draco's previously proud shoulders slumped in a resigned fashion, his platinum head grazing his chest, before mumbling, "Ronald Weasley, Sir."
The boy in question glanced at the silent Draco beside him, now free from his enchantments and fully mobile, though the only movement he had offered had been his middle finger.
Blaise glanced around the room for the forth time in the space of two minutes, his curious eyes roaming over numerous mystical objects, including a smoking box, a tin pipe which seemed to be spitting bubbles, and an eerie looking medallion hanging from a candle stick, in the top right of a deep mahogany shelf.
"That would be the Indescresible Pendant, capable of many, many dangers in our now perilous free world," lightly commented Professor Dumbledore, gracefully gesturing at the pendant, his eyes betraying his indifferent tone. Draco's head lifted up slightly with a thoughtful expression.
Dumbledore gazed at the two students sitting infront of his desk, the youngest of the Malfoy family, with a stiff posture, and a bashful looking Blaise Zambini. He slowly turned and sat himself down onto his golden chair, placing his gnawed hands placidly on the wooden tabletop. Linking his long fingers he bowed his head slightly in thought before speaking.
"Although, I do not believe pure curiosity drove you to bewitch a fellow student and, ahem, escort him to my office," coughed Dumbledore, a faint twinkle in his aged eyes.
Blaise cleared his throat, the sound echoing in the now silent room and began, "Well, I intervened shall we say..."
Dumbledore waved a hand for him to continue. Blaise glanced at Draco, who still sat as rigidly as he had from first arriving at the headmasters' office.
"To help Draco," Draco snorted at this. Blaise shot him a look and continued, "You know of his families origins don't you Sir?"
"Do you ask; do I know of our Mr Malfoy's veela blood?" Dumbledore sat back into his chair and faint amusement glittered in his eyes at the response of the younger Malfoy to his statement.
The pale boy started, and pure fury brimmed in his barely cloaked eyes. He slowly turned his head to look at what he know considered to be his enemy, and glared.
Blaise merely glanced back at the intense glare, smirked slighty and murmured, "You can tell him now if you would like."
Silver eyes dropped in anger and the pale boy ground his teeth quietly enough to not be noticed. Blaise intended to peek Dumbledore's interest until Draco was forced to tell him. Clever plan of Blaise's, though not quite clever enough. He smiled politely at Blaise and felt a pleasant smugness overcome him at Blaise's puzzled reaction to his polite smile. Draco languidly stretched, picked himself off the cushioned chair and spoke, "Professor Dumbledore, this was nothing more than a childish joke at my expense, we shall leave, not bothering you with such trivial matters."
He began to stride towards the door, reaching his agile fingers out to clasp the brass handle, pausing suddenly as he registered the words echoing in the circular room.
"Why Mr Malfoy, how ever did you weaken the pull for such an allotted amount of time?" said Dumbledore, his face reflecting pure innocence.
Oh sod.
Slowly, Draco arched his fingers back from the door handle, his shoulders tensing; and spun round on an expensive suede loafer to face Dumbledore.
"How did you...?" the pale prince trailed off and frowned in deep confusion, the battle to keep his frustation from being seen evident in his tense body language.
Blaise watched with light curiosity at the rapid cluster of emotions flitting over the blonde's face, before settling on the blank canvas Draco often wore.
"Ah, Mr Malfoy I have known for some time, but indeed, I did wish to wait for your eventual arrival at my office to discuss the topic in question, albeit, I did not expect this rather, forced, mode of transportation," intoned Dumbledore, a soft smile alighting his tired features.
Draco resignedly twisted completely away from his exit and strode back over to his earlier occupied chair, knowing he had lost the battle, and that he would seek revenge on Blaise. He gracefully slumped into the chair, extending long legs, and sighed softly.
"I have a version, if you like, of the 'Indescresible Pendant' that you spoke of earlier, but unlike your pendant, my, 'Vindescrisate Pendant' was created specially for a family member in the late 1950's for a jealous lover, wishing to control the veela pull. The lover in question had fallen into a rather, shall we say, unstable relationship with his veela counterpart. As a result of the veela pheromones, he became viciously covetous of others looking at his lover, thus he forced his lover to wear a specially created pendant to repel all other suitors petitioning for her attention."
Dumbledore frowned in slight confusion, "But, Mr Malfoy, how would this pendant, I presume in your care, aid to your situation?" he queried.
Draco looked up at Dumbledore, and glanced idly at Blaise. "The pendant in question, in my care, has been adapted as a result of my three quarter veela blood, thus the pendant no longer blocks others against veela pheromones, but blocks myself against my own pheromones," said Draco, straightening his shoulders.
"But how exactly would that help? How strong is the pendant?"
Blaise questioned, knowing that Draco would tell him now that he had no choice, as Dumbledore surely would want to know the answer to his question as well. He has questioned Draco on the power of the pendant previsouly, but the blonde had always sidetracked the question, this in turn, had only driven Blaise's curiosity onwards.
Dumbledore watched this exchange quietly, noting how Blaise's voice dropped a semi tone in the question. Dumbledore frowned and side tracked Blaise's question by voicing another to Draco.
"I trust you came into your heritage on your seventeenth birthday last fortnight?" he questioned.
"Yes." Draco replied almost sullenly, hanging his head. "When I inherited the full weight of my veela responsibility, the pendant allowed me to ignore the pull towards the person my veela instinct chose as the person who completed me."
"So this pendant has provided you with ignorant bliss for a fortnight?" nodded Dumbledore.
"Yes," replied Draco quickly, looking as if he would rather be fed to flobber worms than continue to partake in the conversation.
"Then, I must ask, why have you found yourself in my office?" said Dumbledore, hastily adding in the rest of his sentence at the look on the pale boy's face. "Whether that may have been a voluntary or not."
Blaise spoke up then, "Because the pendant can only work for a while, before eventual becoming less and less effective, down to the point where Draco can no longer ignore what his veela instinct is attempting to compel him to."
All eyes in the room strayed to the silvery eyes belonging to the person in the matter. Dumbledore pondered both boys for a quick minute, "Thus, the pendants control has already begun to slowly disintegrate?" he prompted, his gaze resting on Blaise.
"Yes, and its having nasty effects," demanded a now adamant Blaise, "After Draco explained about the pendant to me, on the eve of his birthday, he mentioned the control weakening over time, and since then he has been such a ba-"
"Now, now, Blaise," cut in Dumbledore, and averted his gaze to the silver haired boy once more, "I see, so, Mr Malfoy, what do you propose we do? Surely it would no just be far less complicated to listen to the pull?"
"No," growled Draco, "It will never work, I can, I can, get a new pendant, try some sort of potion, Severus would help, yes, I can-"
"Draco," commanded the headmaster, stopping the pale boys ramblings instantly, causing a faint flush to rise up his aristocratic features, "I feel that you can no longer ignore this responsibility that has been placed on your shoulders. Your veela instincts and attributes cannot be left untamed, and as a result, become a potential danger to others within this school. Something must be done. Now tell me, who is this potential veela counterpart you are fighting against so determinedly?
Disbelief glowed in the depths of slate eyes, as Draco's previously proud shoulders slumped in a resigned fashion, his platinum head grazing his chest, before mumbling, "Ronald Weasley, Sir."