Disclaimer: Anything that you recognise does not belong to me; it belongs to the very talented J.K. Rowling. Lucky her! I am doing this purely to see if I can, I am not making any money off of this what so ever. Unlucky me!

Also, I have read a lot of stories on this site, so if anything is familiar, it is not on purpose… Could you simply take it as an homage?

TWO WEEKS AFTER HARRY'S BIRTHDAY

Once again, Harry went to the Wembley Markets on his Sunday off. The last time he went he had gotten so many great bargains he couldn't ait to see what he cold get this time. He had bought three pairs of jeans, two hooded jumpers, three t-shirts and two button down shirts for only one hundred pounds! While they might not be name brands, but they suited Harry and most importantly of all, the actually fit!

Harry boarded the tube and took a seat, his mind full of what he needed to buy, he was thinking about trying to find some other pants that weren't jeans for a change. He was so absorbed with his thoughts he didn't notice that the train was becoming more and more full, and that everyone on board seemed to be wearing one of two set of colours, either green and orange or blue and white. When the train pulled into Wembley Station Harry was surprised that he entire train seemed to get off with him, and as they made their way closer and closer to the stadium Harry's heart sank, he wouldn't be able to do any shopping today, there was a rugby match on. Slowing down he looked around, taking in his surroundings for the first time in a while. His mouth twisted with wry humour when he thought of what Mad Eye Moody's reaction would be to Harry not paying attention. Though it had been almost three years ago, Harry still remembered Moody's DADA classes with a smile. The fact that Moody was still part of the Order of the Phoenix also meant that Harry could not escape Mad Eye's lectures about "CONSTANT VIGILANCE". Harry, in his observations, spotted a ticket booth just down the path, walking up he saw that there were tickets going for just ten pounds, figuring that he may as well not waste the trip he bought a ticket and entered the stadium to find his seat.

Draco was annoyed. He had found out he was part veela a month ago and his father had had spent the ensuing time explaining what that meant, relating amusing anecdotes from his past and teaching how to control himself. Draco was now very adept at turning on and off his attraction at will, he found it easier to have it toned down most of the time, but could think of a few occasions in which it could come in handy, avoiding detention for example. Lucius was quite upset about this, apparently being a part veela AND a Malfoy should mean that Draco is above such petty means, Lucius himself had spent many hours telling Draco about the times he could of used his inherited powers but hadn't. Draco had felt like responding that Lucius had become a servant to Voldemort and he really didn't have a moral leg to stand on, but had restrained himself, he didn't think even his father, who was usually very lenient towards his son, would forgive that remark.

What was really making Draco annoyed though was that he still felt the ache, deep down inside of him and, though his father was very knowledgeable about most things to do with his inheritance, he was not very forthcoming about this particular aspect of his gift. Lucius had admitted that he had never found his mate, that he had had to settle with marrying Narcissa, and, while he was very fond of his late wife, he had not loved her with the all encompassing passion that he had read about when researching the love between a veela and their mate.

"There has to be something I can do to ease this ache inside of me!" Draco exclaimed, kicking the wall next to his bedroom door.

Draco lid down the wall and sat on the floor brooding about this problem. This is ridiculous; he was a fully grown wizard! He had passed his apparition lic – Draco's thoughts suddenly pulled up short, he had passed his apparition licence! Draco's mind started racing, the key to apparating was to concentrate very hard on a particular location, what if he concentrated very hard on a particular feeling, a searching, and wouldn't that guide his apparition to where the object of the search currently was? Draco suddenly felt full of hope, he had a plan! He wasn't sure if the plan would give him the desired results, but it was better than nothing and he just had to try it out. Getting changed into jeans and a t-shirt, just in case the search took him into muggle territory, Draco grabbed a jacket and, with a shout to his father that he was going out, ran to the manors apparition point.

Reaching the one room in the manor which you could apparate to and from Draco readied himself, breathing deeply he closed his eyes and concentrated very hard on the longing inside of him. With a small pop, Draco disappeared from the manor and reappeared immediately in a large crowd of people.

"Oi! Watch where you're going!" An annoyed voice rang through Draco's ears, he had apparated directly in the path of a big man dressed in a rugby jumper of orange and green.

Draco was slightly disappointed, obviously his idea had worked, but it had placed him the middle of a huge crowd of people, and he didn't have any way of knowing what to do next to in his mate. He looked around desperately, hoping there might be an obvious hint to help him out, maybe a giant flashing arrow suspended in mid air saying

"YOUR MATE IS HERE DRACO!"

Unfortunately he was not that lucky.

"AAAARRRRRRGGGGGHHHHHH!" Draco screamed in frustration and in a fit of pique he apparated back home fully intending to sulk for the rest of the holidays.

Harry was enjoying the game very much, his ticket had placed him in the centre of a sea of orange and green and he had a great time cheering on the Hawks. He had a great time cheering along with the crowd, insulting the other team, leaping up from his seat when his 'team' scored a try, booing when the other team did particularly well. The high spirits of the crowd helped keep Harry's mind off the freezing wind that was sweeping around the stands, rubbing his hands together Harry absently noticed that the stone of Sirius' ring was warmer than the rest of him, thinking that maybe it had a warming charm on it Harry soon got swept away by the game again as the Hawks scored a spectacular field goal.

When the game finished Harry moved with the crowd towards the exit, his mind wrapped up in the game that he had just seen. Unfortunately the game ended in a draw so his cheering companions did not get the great victory they had predicted at half time, but it had been a great experience for Harry, one he fully intended to repeat, he thought he would have to speak to Mark about the rugby on Monday and see if he had any suggestions about the best team to support, he couldn't very well continue just cheering with the crowd.

The next day Harry bounced into work with a huge grin on his face.

"Mark? Hey Mark! Where are you? What are we doing first today? Can I re format those sweet jars on the back wall, I think that sorting by flavouring would be much better than colour, no offence or anything mate!" Hearing no reply from the back where Mark usually was first thing in the morning, Harry made his way back there.

"Mark? Where are you?" Walking into the back room Harry stopped dead, his words dying in his throat. Lying on the floor of the storeroom was the one person who had been nice to him the entire summer, lying on the floor in a pool of blood was his boss Mark Pucey, dead.

Sorry to leave you here, work beckons, but hopefully I will be back later to update further! Its like it is all rattling around in my head begging to get out!