AN: Thank you so much to everyone who followed/favorited and, as always, much love to everyone who reviewed! KaneWolfe, Eternal-Glade, LightofEvolution, AngelinaWeasley1, ArabellaTepes and Guest - you deserve all the hearts and hugs! You all are so incredibly sweet! I'm so pleased people are enjoying this little fic :)

So without further ado, Draco...


Changing Scenery

Chapter 9: Scheming

They made it too easy.

Draco had expected it to take more work and no small amount of manipulation on his part to get Granger and Potter together, but they went to dance of their own volition.

Draco had watched as Potter led Granger out of the room, admiring the way they looked together. Soon I'll have them both. The thought had him smirking as he turned back to his conversation with Blaise and Longbottom. Blaise had raised an eyebrow, asking a silent question even as he replied to Longbottom's comment about a recent article in Potions Monthly. Draco had just given a small shake of his head in reply.

Draco hadn't been able to see the dance floor from where he'd been standing, but he could feel Granger and Potter. Maybe this bloody Veela thing is good for something. He'd sensed when things started getting interested and his Veela had perked up. Draco had needed a long drink to resist the urge to release his wings and hunt down his mates.

"I was speaking with Professor Sprout and she disagreed with the author about the possible uses of Mandrake root in antivenin. I think she's right. Mandrake roots are very finicky when used as a substitute in antidotes, especially against hexes–"

Draco had tuned out when it became apparent that Longbottom was going to continue in his longwinded explanation. Besides, he had much better things to be doing.

He'd excused himself with less subtlety than he usually managed. Blaise had glanced at the empty couch and at Draco's tight grip on his tumbler, smirked, and told him to have fun.

Potter had been oddly unsurprised when Draco turned up, and even more oddly agreeable to Draco dancing with Granger. Granger had been surprised, but she hadn't raised any objections either.

Coaxing Potter into kissing Granger had been child's play. Gryffindors really were too easy to rile up. Still, he himself had been more than a little riled and aroused by them, and he hadn't done more than stand there as they snogged against him.

But standing there, surrounded by them, touching them. It was intoxicating. He'd wanted to whisk them away and take them to bed and keep them there for a few days. Or weeks. Hermione was soft and her curves fit against him perfectly as Potter pressed her against him. And Potter. Even in the heavy Auror robes he usually wore, it was easy to see that he was lean, but without them it was clear that he was muscular as well. With the hand Draco had wrapped around his waist he had discovered that Auror training kept Potter very fit indeed.

To have them both, well, his Veela clearly had good taste. I can live with this.

When Hermione pulled away from them both, breathing heavily, he was disappointed, but not terribly surprised. She'd looked mildly panicked and he'd let her go without a fight. Which didn't have anything to do with the fact that he was struggling to get over his own response to having his mates so close. Not at all.

He was surprised when Potter didn't immediately leave. Just stood there, staring at him. Well, well. Let's see if you feel something.

Draco hadn't visited the club before, but being a Veela meant he had excellent night vision and he spotted the dark corridor along the wall. He could feel that Potter followed him and he was quite pleased by that.

He walked a little ways into the corridor, which was just barely lit, and struck up a pose against the wall which he knew would display him to his best advantage. Potter caught up quickly, and he stopped a step away and looked at Draco with something between curiosity, arousal, and nerves.

Draco watched as Potter's hand twitched. Probably wondering if I'll hex him. The thought nearly had him smirking, but that would have ruined the image he was going for. Instead, he waited Potter out, knowing how impatient he was.

He didn't disappoint.

"Well?" he demanded.

Nerves were starting to become the dominant expression on Potter's face, and Draco didn't want that. That, combined with his own need to have Potter, left only one course of action.

Draco grabbed Potter's shirt, thrust him up against the wall, and then kissed him. He wasn't going to let Potter rethink this, or think at all.

The angle was perfect, and Draco easily kept control as they kissed. He could feel Potter writhing beneath him, but the Veela gave Draco just enough advantage to keep him pinned against the wall. He dragged himself away from Potter's lips in order to taste the skin of his neck and the edge of shoulder revealed by Potter's shirt. He wasn't entirely sure if it was the Veela in him, but Draco couldn't help but think that Potter tasted like night skies and brandy.

He returned his attention to Potter's lips and was extremely pleased when Potter reached around, grabbed Draco's hips, and pulled Draco closer, grinding their cocks together. When Potter thrust his tongue into Draco's mouth, he moaned. Draco was nearly mindless. He nipped at Potter's lip, who bit back, and then Draco nipped at that tantalizing bit of shoulder. Potter moaned and Draco's Veela nearly had a meltdown. He did it again, hard enough to leave a mark. He's mine. Mine.

Realizing that he was getting dangerously close to dragging Potter off to bed and damn subtlety, Draco pulled back. Potter stared at him with dilated pupils, the green only just visible. He was panting through reddened and swollen lips. Draco stared at him hungrily for a moment, and then stepped back with a struggle he managed to keep hidden.

"Something to think about Potter," Draco said, when he was sure his voice wouldn't tremble.

Then he turned and walked away, resisting the urge to look away and the screeching from his Veela.

Draco spent most of Sunday deciding how to approach the next phase of his pursuit. He didn't know Granger and Potter as adults, having spent more time avoiding them since finishing Hogwarts than seeking them out. But, he decided, their personalities probably hadn't changed appreciably since then. And Draco had spent far more time than he cared to admit studying those two, and the Weasel, in school. He spent some time researching them, looking through old copies of the Prophet and The Quibbler, a paper he had subscribed to after the war when he was crippled with guilt and self-loathing for everything that had happened that year. He'd also made a very large, anonymous donation.

On Monday morning, armed with his research, he Apparated to the Ministry and made his way confidently to the Department for Magical Creatures. He'd never been there before, but it was easy to find. Even if he hadn't surreptitiously checked the directory, his Veela could sense his mates within the building and without much effort, he could have located them.

When the lift doors opened, he stepped out into offices that looked very much like all the others in the Ministry, although generally cleaner and better organized. A woman sat at a large desk at the front of the room, facing toward the lift. He approached and the woman looked up with the polite, expectant look all receptionists had mastered. Her expression quickly morphed when she recognized him. Witches and wizards tended to react one of two ways when they met him: either they were disgusted and glared or they flattered and flirted. She fell into the latter category. Thank Merlin I don't have my wings out. She'd combust.

"Mr. Malfoy? How can I help you?" she asked, a little breathlessly.

He leaned forward slightly, a half-smile on his face. "I'm looking for Hermione Granger."

She tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. "Do you, uh, have an appointment?"

"No. I want to surprise her," he said, in a voice suggesting he was imparting a great secret. All the better if she thinks something's going on.

"Oh," she said, eyes widening even more. "Well, let me see if she's busy." The woman quickly flipped through a book on her desk and then back up at him. "She doesn't have a meeting right now, so you can go see her." She smiled brilliantly.

"Perfect," Draco said, his voice very nearly syrupy. "Could you direct me to her office?"

"Of course! Last door on the left," she said, indicating a wall of doors behind her. "I can show you, if you want?"

Absolutely not. "Oh, that's alright. I'm sure I can find it." He winked before striding away.

The door the receptionist had indicated had a small brass plate with Granger's name embossed on it.

Draco knocked and waited until he heard a muffled, "Come in."

He pushed open the door, and was inordinately pleased by the surprised look on her face, and the brief flash of lust he thought he saw. He definitely didn't imagine the blush which rose to her cheeks. Well, well.

"Malfoy! Um, come in, sit down." She gestured to one of the chairs in front of her desk. He closed the door behind him before going to sit, pleased when he did that the chair was comfortable.

"What can I do for you?" she asked, when he didn't immediately say anything.

Oh the possibilities. She didn't appear to realize how suggestive her statement could be, but the blush hadn't yet left her cheeks. "Well, you did tell me to drop by if I needed help."

"Of course, I'd be happy to help. Did you need help for anything in particular?" She slipped quickly into a professional mode.

I have a rather large problem in my lap that I'd love for you to help me with. Draco cleared his throat before answering, glad that her desk was high enough to hide his lower half from view. He crossed his legs, just in case. "Well you see, I'm having a problem with my mates."

"I didn't know you'd found her. Congratulations. Wait, your…mates? You have more than one?" She looked adorably puzzled.

Draco smirked. "Yes, two, in fact."

"I've read about cases where a Veela had more than one mate, but it's not terribly common."

"No, it's not," Draco said, enjoying her confusion.

"I see. Do you know why you have two mates? Is it to do with your transformation? Or perhaps your magical signature? Are your mates male or female? I suppose such a thing could be due to personal preference, but of course, there are cases where the Veela found their mate when they were far too young to have developed a preference –"

Draco was sure she could have continued for much longer, but an academic digression wasn't exactly conducive to his plan to seduce her, even if he was impressed by her ability to store so much information. So he cleared his throat again.

She cut off abruptly and immediately refocused on him, another faint blush tinting her cheekbones. "I'm sorry, I tend to get carried away. But you say you're having a problem?"

Draco waved off her apology, knowing without a doubt that most of the people she interacted with wouldn't have the intellectual capacity to follow her and probably grew annoyed quickly. "No need to apologize."

"Ah, thank you. But tell me what your problem is, and I will see if there's something I can do to help." She was looking at him with a hint of something that looked like gratitude.

His Veela shifted restlessly in his mind. She shouldn't be punished for being smarter than everyone else in the room. People should appreciate her, not denigrate her. The urge to hunt down those who had instilled in her the belief that she should hide her intelligence was strong, but the draw of her physical presence was stronger.

"Well, I think my mates may be reluctant. I haven't told them yet, you see. My reputation…suffered because of the war. I'm not sure I want to drag them down." Draco surprised himself with his honesty. He'd wanted to play on her sympathy, but he hadn't realized how genuinely worried he was that Potter and Granger would reject him once they realized that he was bound to them.

Granger's face softened immediately, as he had hoped. "I take it that your mates are not old friends?" Draco shook his head and she looked at him earnestly. "Your reputation really isn't that bad. I know you've donated quite a lot to the recovery efforts, in both time and money. I'm sure that will be worth something."

Draco raised an eyebrow. "Been keeping tabs on me, have you?"

Hermione coughed, looking down. "I'm very involved, and I do try to keep abreast of all news. And we have, of course, crossed paths now and then."

"Of course," Draco said, smirking.

"Anyway, I'm sure your mates will recognize your efforts." She busied herself adjusting some quills before looking at him.

"I certainly hope so." Draco stared at her hard, and something that looked suspiciously like heat flared in her eyes.

"So what is it you think I might be able to help with?" she asked, smoothing some parchments on her desk.

"I want to know the laws on Veela courtship. I know there used to be special laws regarding how Veelas could attract their mates, but I was never interested in the details before. Now I have a vested interest, you could say."

Hermione smiled. "Naturally." She slid her wand into her hand from somewhere Draco didn't spot and then waved it, Summoning several books from the shelves that lined the walls. "The laws haven't changed much. They were relatively lenient, and they still are, for many things. The only law which has changed recently is about the use of allure. It's recently been classified as a dangerous aphrodisiac and is not allowed to be used without consent."

"So I can't use the Veela allure to attract my mates?" Unfortunate, but not crippling.

"Basically. It was considered to be in the same category as some of the more potent love potions, because it essentially removes the will of the victim. Therefore, anything which happens under its influence with someone who is under its thrall unwillingly cannot be consented to. Once your mates have consented however, it may be used at the discretion of the couple, or triad," she added, nodding at him.

"Allure doesn't work that way," Draco said, annoyed that she had implied that he might use the allure to force himself on his mates.

"I know," Granger admitted. "I understand that it is usually more of a concentrated pheromone, designed to appeal to mates. However, because of those cases where it has been used to coerce someone unwillingly, the laws were made harsher to protect unwilling mates from being forced to submit."

"I suppose I can understand that," Draco said grudgingly.

"As far as other courtship traditions and rituals," Granger said, clearly trying to change the topic, "the laws are quite lenient." Her tone suggested that she thought them too lenient. "Veela have much more leeway than wizards. Veela may not, under any circumstance, harm their mate. However, Veela are allowed to go so far as to kidnap their mate, although I would strongly recommend against that course of action. I believe that law was created so that a Veela could remove a mate from a family which opposed the match. From what I have read, I believe the Veela courtship ritual is otherwise very similar to that of the traditional pureblood ritual."

Draco nodded. "It is. Well, that was helpful, thank you." He smiled at her, letting just a hint of the Veela out.

Her breath caught, before she shook herself. "You're welcome. I have a book here which covers most points of Veela law, if you're interested." She held up a thick book with a red leather cover and Veela Law stamped on the cover in large gold letters.

"Yes, thank you." He reached forward, brushing his fingers against hers intentionally as he took the book. The same sparks that he'd felt in Potter's office flowed up his arm and he knew she felt it as well. She jerked her arm back and inspected it.

"What was that?" she demanded.

Draco shrugged. "I've no idea what you mean." He stood, shrinking the book and slipping it into his pocket wordlessly. "You've been very helpful, Granger. Thank you." He walked to the door and opened it, before turning at the last moment. "And thank you for the dance on Friday."

Draco chuckled to himself as he walked away. The expression on her face had been priceless. His Veela was gratified by the arousal that had shown clearly on her face, even if it had been warring with shock and embarrassment.

As he stepped into the lift, he debated going to see Potter, but he didn't have a reason, even a flimsy one like he'd given Granger, and he didn't fancy going into the DMLE without reason. There were more than a few Aurors who weren't happy that he wasn't locked up in Azkaban. Instead, he took the lift to the main hall and then Apparated to Diagon Alley.

He walked quickly to Twilfitt and Tattings. He received far fewer glares than he used right after the war, but there were still the occasional disparaging remarks. Thankfully, the walk was uneventful and he was soon entering the store.

He had owled the proprietor, Madame Lemoux, and arranged for private fittings, though he had not explained the situation. With his wings tucked away, as they were now, his regular clothes fit, but he wanted to get robes made that would accommodate his wings when they were out. For obvious reasons, they could not simply be ordered.

When he walked in, he was immediately greeted by a young woman Draco recognized from previous trips to the store.

"Hello, Mr. Malfoy," she said, smiling. She took his outer robe, leaving him in a well-fitting suit. "Madame will be right out."

Within moments, a thin older woman walked out of a back room. "Monsieur Malfoy, a pleasure to see you, as always," she said, her accent thick. "This way."

She gestured, and he walked into the back room she had emerged from. She followed him and then closed the door, engaging privacy wards.

"Now, what is it you require?" she asked, walking around him. She snapped her fingers and a measuring tape jumped into her hand.

Draco shrugged out of his jacket and laid it on a chair. The shirt beneath had large slits cut in the back which he'd made that morning for precisely this purpose. With a little thought, his wings emerged, slightly tearing the fabric despite the slits. He flexed them, his wing tips brushing the walls. He fluffed them and then tucked them against his back.

"As you can see, I have some new appendages which need to be accommodated."

Madame Lemoux frowned. "Oui, well. This does present some difficulty, Monsieur." She didn't exclaim or fawn. There were more Veela in France, and Draco was gratified to see that his assumption of her discretion was correct.

"I need at least three sets of dress robes, and ten sets of everyday robes."

Madame hmm'd. She snapped her fingers again and the tape jumped into action, zipping around him and taking measures. At a gesture from Madame, Draco extended his wings and the tape took even more measurements.

"Will you be able to make what I require?" Draco asked.

Madame Lemoux frowned again. "But of course, Monsieur. The color is very striking. There is much I can do." She walked around him again, studying him and his wings from every angle. "Yes, this will be done."

"Excellent," Draco said, retracting his wings when the tape measure returned to her hand.

"Do you have a hurry?" she asked, flicking her fingers and sending the measure away.

"I have an event planned for three weeks from now for which I will need a set of dress robes," he said as he re-buttoned his shirt. Well, if all goes well.

Madame tapped a finger against her lip before nodding sharply. "It can be done. Come back next week for a fitting."

Draco retrieved his jacket and slipped it back on. "Very well. I trust I can depend on your discretion, Madame?"

Madame stood straighter. "Naturellement, Monsieur Malfoy."

"Good. I will see you next week." Draco opened the door, disengaging the privacy wards. The assistant was waiting in the main room with his outer robes. He nodded at her as he pulled them on. She stared at him curiously but only offered a cordial goodbye as he left.

When he Apparated back to the Manor, he stopped by his mother's favorite parlor, finding her alone drinking a cup of tea and reading.

"Hello, Mother," he said.

She looked up and smiled slightly. "Draco."

She had been cool since he had revealed the identity of his mates, but he knew she would come around. "I wanted to let you know that I plan to hold a ball in three weeks for Samhain."

His mother's reaction was limited to a delicate lift of one eyebrow. "Do you?"

"We used to hold one every year," he reminded her.

"I remember," she replied, her tone bland. "We have not held one eight years."

"I thought it was time to bring it back."

She set down her cup of tea. "I don't suppose this has anything to do with your recent inheritance?"

Draco straightened the cuffs of his shirt, admiring the line. "I simply want to uphold tradition."

"Of course, dear," she said. "I'll owl Daphne, I'm sure she'd love to help plan a Samhain ball."

His Veela screeched in his head. "I'm sure she would," he gritted. "Good afternoon."

His mother smiled slightly and then returned to her book with undisturbed calm. Draco had the feeling, as his wings burst from his back as he walked up the stairs, that he had not emerged the victor in that little verbal contest.


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