Yes. I am the infamous JKR. Bow and pray to me, for I am the god of everything fanfiction. I am going to make millions of dollars from this fanfiction and then I'm going to use the money to fuel my plans for world domination.

Did I fool you? Not even a little bit? Why do I need a disclaimer then? I guess I don't.

I just noticed that I said that Harry was looking good for an eleven-year-old last chapter. He would've been 12 at that time. I'm too lazy to go change it.

I decided that I'm going to do a second chapter! Here it is.

&_& Inconspicuous start to chapter ()_()

"Boy-Who-Lived Turned into a Veela After the Incident with the Chamber of Secrets!"

"Harry Potter, -a young boy- became the first male Veela in recorded history just last week. Harry, Heir apparent of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Potter with an estimated net worth of 27 billion Galleons (Making him Europe's 23rd richest person) had this to say about his transformation. "Nobody knows how it happened nor how to control my Allure. It is very vexing." Our thoughts and prayers go out with this lost adolescent today, Merlin help him!"

This was the front cover of the Daily Prophet that was in the Prison Warden's hand when he passed by Sirius Black on the morning of June 7th. The Paper fell out of his hand when a Dementor came around the corner and scared his breakfast out of him. As the man ran away while clutching his stomach, Sirius read the paper and concluded: "Harry needs me!"

i_i Inconspicuous location change o_o

[Author's Note: Sirius is smarter, and his priorities have changed. He won't be going after the rat immediately.]

(August 6th)

As Harry ate his breakfast, he contemplated why his friends had left him so fast. Ron had come through the Leaky Cauldron a week ago to go shopping for school supplies with his family, when the confrontation occurred. Ginny had seen Harry and waved before going to sit in a barstool. As the rest of the Weasley family came out of the fireplace, they too saw Harry and Ginny sitting and conversing. The only other people in the bar were Harry, Ginny, and Tom. The Weasleys had picked the middle of the day to go shopping. Ron, impulsive as ever, remembered that (according to Hermione) Harry had bewitched Hermione and then humiliated her. Ron ran over to Harry and swung a fist at Harry.

Harry felt a sudden breeze sweep through the tavern and the temperature rise a substantial amount. He looked to find the culprit of the change and it was Ron. Ron was attempting to punch him in slow motion. Harry was about to talk to Ron when he noticed that everyone and everything else was slowed down too. The flames in the fireplace were slowly dancing, Tom was cleaning a glass at a snail's pace, Mr. Weasley was running towards Ron in slow motion. Harry stood up, walked over to Ron, and tapped him on the shoulder. This was when everything resumed normal speed. Ron's punch missed Harry and the momentum kept Ron moving until he crashed onto the barstool and then fell over. Ron promptly fell unconscious on the tavern floor due to a hit on the head from the bar. Ginny was appalled that Ron would try to hit Harry; they were best friends!

"How did you get out of the way so fast?" One second, Harry was talking to her. The next, Ron was on the ground snoring. Ginny had a look of sheer and utter bewilderment upon her face.

"I don't know, everything just slowed down once Ron attempted to punch me. Once I was out of his arm's reach, everything sped back up." At this point, Arthur had caught up to the group.

"What happened?" Arthur saw Ron run to the group and then attempt to hit Harry, only for Harry to be standing five feet away from the chair he was on. Mr. Weasley directed his question towards Ginny. "Why would Ron try to hit Harry?"

"I don't know, why don't you wake him up, dad?" Ginny was very perplexed at her brother's actions.

"Rennervate"

"Wah? Oh, hi Harry! What am I doing here? Something about you and Hermione... Oh, that's what it was!" A look of pure fury overcame Ron's face and he attempted to hit Harry. Mr. Weasley was not okay with that. "Dad, let me go! I need to teach Harry that he doesn't get to force himself onto my girl, hit her, and then run away! He messed up Hermione's mind and then hurt her." Ron was now red in the face, attempting with all his might to sit up and 'teach Harry.'

"I never forced myself onto Hermione. Rather, the opposite. She molested me in this bar, I can point you to a few witnesses. Check my wand, I've never cast any spells in my life capable of 'messing up' Hermione's mind. I also didn't hurt her, she was on top of me, when my magic reacted to my distress and apparated me to the other side of the bar-"

"Lies! You just get all the girls! They all want to be with the 'Boy-Who-Lived.' That wasn't enough for you though, no, you had to have Hermione. You're rich, you get girls, everybody loves you and it's still not enough. Hermione's mine, I tell you, MINE!" At this point, Ron was frothing at the mouth a bit. He more closely resembled a rabid dog than he did a human. Mr. Weasley said that he was sorry for Ron's actions and practically dragged Ron out of the Three Broomsticks.

7_7 Inconspicuous Incongruency \o/

(A week later)

"So, we've all got our Hogwarts letters, right?" Harry asked the group. It was Nevilles' Birthday and they planned to do their school shopping together. They had all chosen courses over the summer. Neville was doing Care for Magical Creatures (from now on known as CMC) and Ancient Runes, while Terry and Daphne were doing Arithmancy and Ancient Runes, and Harry was doing all three. Nobody saw the point of Muggle studies, Harry and Terry knew enough to ace the 7th year test for it already. None of them saw any gain from Divination either, you either were a seer, or you weren't. It wasn't a class that could be taught.

As the group walked to Gringotts to obtain the funds for their excursion, they talked about projects they wanted to accomplish the next year at Hogwarts.

"I'd like to create a way for us to talk to each other from our own respective rooms next year." Harry stated while they strolled along the boulevard. While learning occlumency from Daphne had given Harry control over his allure, he was still intoxicatingly gorgeous and needed his own quarters during the school year for safety purposes. Certain people in his year were notoriously jealous and impulsive. Not to mention how many people would be stalking Harry, allure or no allure. Harry had been granted sleeping quarters in an unused wing of the castle. It had previously been used to teach the classes of Rituals, Illusions, and Alchemy, but those classes had been closed due to lack of interest and teachers. Harry, as he no longer was part of the Gryffindor House, could not participate in the quidditch teams but did have more flexibility with his schedule. His change of sleeping quarters could lead to him taking some classes with all the houses in Hogwarts. At least he has friends in ¾ houses, and Hufflepuffs were normally nice.

As they arrived at Gringotts, the four broke off to go to their respective vaults. Greengrass, Longbottom, and Potter were Most Ancient and Noble houses, while Boot was just an Ancient and Noble house. All four of them were also Heirs to their family wealth and name-they had plenty of money. After their trip through the mining tunnels underneath the bank, they came back with the necessary funds. Aside from the normal 3rd year materials, Harry bought a whole new wardrobe from Twilfit and Tattings as he was done wearing Dudley's old cast-offs in his free time. The clothes were a little too small since his growth spurt anyways.

Over the summer, Terry's uncle Regent Arnold Boot had taught them rudimentarily in the magics of wand lore. While he was no master of wands, he believed that with Harry's transformation into a Veela, his magic would also change and that while his wand would still work, it wouldn't be the best suited for him. Having a second wand was illegal, so to be safe, Harry would have to snap his holly and phoenix wand in favor of the new one.

The four turned down the alley to the knockturn portion. Here, Harry was buying a portkey to take him to the fabled Gregorovitch's workshop. The wands the man made were of the highest quality and so sought after that he had a wait line over 5 years long. Being the Boy-Who-Lived did have some benefits-he only had to wait a few months.

"You have the portkey?" Harry asked the shop owner.

"Yes, right here. It's two-way. Will bring you back when you say the phrase "return me, magic orb!" The old man replied.

"Here's the fifty galleons. If I could have the tennis ball?" Harry wanted to finish the transaction before somebody saw him, or worse, the portkey left.

"Happy travels!" With that, the shop owner gave Harry the ball and vanished. While it wasn't illegal to buy, own, or create a portkey, selling one without ministry jurisdiction was finable for a few thousand galleons. The ministry was sure weird about some things.

g_g Inconspicuous internationality y_y

Harry stumbled onto snow outside of a dusty and old shack. He knew that this was but an illusion, and that the real building was majestic. It was kept this way to keep away unwanted persons. He entered and a little bell rang above the door. Inside, there were about 10 long wooden tables of wand components laid out. At the back end of the room, there was a door which led to the workshop in earnest. A portly old man came from the workshop, dragon hide gloves in hand. The man was very short, no taller than 1.7 meters. He had a wispy grey beard that went to his belly, before tapering off, and hair on his head in a similar state. He had wrinkles on his face from smiling, yet he emanated the feeling that you shouldn't cross him.

"Hello! I'm Gregorovitch, and it's a pleasure to meet you. Let me check the order book, and mark down that you came today." The man bustled over to a desk on the other side of the room and opened a huge, old book. He scribbled something down and then came back to talk with Harry. "So, you're Harry Potter, right? It said in the book that you'd like a custom wand! Oh, so exciting. I've never made a wand specifically for a Veela before, let alone one for the male Veela. I have all the ingredients set out on the tables over there. Feel your magic, and whatever pulls to you, bring it over!" Gregorovitch went on to ramble about possible core and wood combinations while Harry went away, perusing the items on the table. He found a jar of hairs which seemed to shimmer, and a phial of a bubbling red liquid. He put them on the table near Gregorovitch, whose eyebrows disappeared into his hair line. Harry came back with a grey block of wood that he felt a very strong connection with. As he walked over, he found a red ruby, about half the size of his thumb. It was too big to be for a ring. He felt a strange connexion to it though and grabbed it.

"Curious... Very Curious." Gregorovitch muttered about Lady Magic's complexity.

"Sir, what is curious?" Harry inquired.

"The wood that you have chosen. It has a rather interesting backstory. See, it's wood from a larch tree. Larch wood is normally red or orange in color, yet this wood is grey. I say it is leeched of all color. I guess I should start with the beginning. My grandfather grew up and lived in small village of Northern Russia. One of his neighbors was a collector of sorts. Owned a wide variety of animals and one day came upon and bought, a Nundu that was for sale. Nundu are very deadly creatures. Not only are they the biggest feline species, but their breath is fatal. The Nundu broke free from the cage it was in and went on a rampage, killing everybody within the town." He paused to take a deep breath.

"My grandfather was one of the lucky few who managed to escape. When he went back, the only thing standing in the decimated village was a tree. It was a larch tree that had previously been used as a swing for the children of the village. Dust covered the village; it was as if everything was turned into dust. All except for the tree. My grandfather, in either wisdom or luck, grabbed a branch from that tree, and here is what we have today. I have since had it tested, and it contains high levels of Nundu breath and some other kind of magical power. Power that transcends that of even the Nundu. It is theorized that the Nundu's breath disintegrated the village, yet for some reason, not this tree that was at the heart of the village. The breath still contained in the wood has aged long past its expiration date-it's no longer poisonous. Yet, the wood has always oozed magical power. It is further theorized that the souls of the dead villagers are trapped inside of the wood, waiting to be released from their confinement. It is curious that you, a boy from a decimated home, should have picked wood from a decimated village." He paused to look at Harry.

He picked up the bubbling red phial "This is poison extracted from a Manticore's stinger, and the hair you have chosen here is from the head of a hidebehind. That ruby is from an old elvish crown." Gregorovitch paused before jumping into yet another story.

"See, back when magical Britain was new, Elves were still in the magical world. I'm not talking about house-elves, those were around, yes, but I'm talking about the mighty kingdoms of the Woodland Elves. They were beings of insurmountable beauty, akin to a Veela. Woodland Elves were said to be around 2 meters in height, and of a thin musculature. They, like the Veela, were a humanoid race and were very sexual creatures. Said to have fornicated like rabbits." Gregorovitch shook himself as if the idea brought back some unwanted memories.

"Sir, how are Elves different from Veela then? What you've stated so far is also true for Veela. Aside from the woodland kingdom part, that is." Harry interjected into Gregorovitch's monologue.

"The key differences between Veela and Elves though, was that Elves had no allure and that when they turned 15, the young elf would undergo a transformation into a 'true elf' -think of it as puberty happening within a few hour and that there are both male and female Elves, whereas until you, there was only female Veela. Elves, unlike Veela and Humans, mate for life. After they undergo their coming-of-age ritual, they would awake with the knowledge of who their mate is. Sometime after Merlin and King Arthur formed Magical Britain, the elves inexplicably vanished from the world. Their kingdoms were left for nature to claim, their treasures to be stolen. I have come across this jewel, and the markings on it indicate it was from a crown. As the symbol of power, it had many elvish enchantments on it long forgotten to us humans. What's that in your hand?" Gregorovitch pointed to a patch of cloth in Harry's hand.

Harry hadn't even noticed that he'd grabbed it. "Soil my britches, it's a full dementor's cloak! I sure don't own that! But the potential..." Gregorovitch took the folded cloak and added it to the pile.

"Nundu, hidebehind, Dementor, Elves and Manticore. All powerful creatures, no doubt about that! I'll send you a letter when the wand is finished. It would be best if you were able to pick this up in person." Gregorovitch noted the materials into his book. "Some people might get the wrong impression if they knew what your wand was made of."

"The price will be determined upon crafting. I'm most excited to work on this. Such raw magic here, this will be a wand to go down in the history books!"

+_+ Inconspicuous zoom forward {}_{}

Finally, the day was here! Harry had just returned from the workshop 700 galleons lighter, and with a brand-new wand. He couldn't wait to get back and show it off to Daphne, Neville, and Terry. Neville would appreciate the creatures that it came from while Terry would enjoy the power it held, and Daphne would love its beautiful yet simplistic design. He was skipping along the alley when he bumped into a disheveled man. The man looked as if he had seen a ghost, heck, the guy himself wasn't that far from one. His hair was an unruly mess that hadn't seen a shower within a few months, and his clothes looked like they'd been in the trash just a few seconds ago. The man himself was in worse condition than his clothes, he was skinny, too skinny. The man looked like he hadn't eaten in a month and the tired facial expression coupled with the hunched over appearance didn't help matters either.

"Sorry, sir. I didn't see you there." Harry said as he went to sidestep the man.

"Harry? Is that really you? By Morgana, you look just like your parents." The ghost-man replied.

"You knew my parents? Would you mind telling me about them? I never got to know them." Harry wondered if he'd learn something about his parents today.

"I'd be happy to do so. Why don't you come to my house? I'm Sirius Black, your Godfather."