A/N: Wow, it feels like a heck of long time since I last wrote. Besides the usual disclaimer, I borrowed something from the Blackadder television series in the chapter (if anybody knows about that). Anybody who finds it gets…well nothing, because this is the internet you know. Usually don't like to include references to other stuff but this just happened so never mind. At the moment I'm leaning away from making this mpreg. If anybody has strong opinions on this, feel free to express them. Thanks to Hope4Faith who helped me out when I got stuck. Hope you enjoy.

The Veela Conspiracy

Chapter Five: Bubbles and Beauty

Professor Severus Snape looked at the clock at the back of the potions room with despair. It was true. He still had 57 minutes of this beyond awful class.

'Professor Snape?' The man in question practically snarled as he looked down at a strangely timid member of the Gryffindor race.

'What?' He hissed. The student trembled slightly, but very definitely.

'I was just wondering what you wanted us to do today.' The student said nervously. At this point the other fourth year Gryffindors would have been plotting their revenge on the member of their house bringing work down upon them, if not for the fact that they had all been distinctly disturbed by the expression that had been on Professor Snape's face all day.

Still more disturbing, it had been there even before the discovery of his teddy bear Bubbles hanging by a noose above his seat in the Great Hall at lunchtime. Dumbledore had awarded ten points to whoever it was that had managed the impressive charm-work that had the bear hanging from nowhere, and all anybody knew was that the perpetrator belonged in Hufflepuff. Professor Flitwick had been almost giddy at the discovery of the first talented Hufflepuff since Cedric Diggory had become the newest freckle on the nose of the Great Pixie in the Sky. But then was brought back down to earth by the fact that nobody had any more idea who it was.

'Why don't you all practice chopping, slicing and shredding,' suggested Professor Snape almost casually. 'There's ginger, arnica and belladonna in the storage cupboards.' They stared at him, unbelieving that he would really make them chop for almost an hour. And Slice and Shred. 'Moooovvvee!' Professor Snape roared finally. They scattered. The professor leaned back in his chair, satisfied that he'd got the pesky students out of his hair. His very refined and dignified hair that wasn't at all frivolous, no matter what anyone else might say about it.

At least the Potter boy wasn't in this class. Snape closed his eyes and shuddered. The last two nights had been horrifying. No! The sight of Bubbles so thoughtlessly strung up had been horrifying. This was something else. He had held a sort of sick fascination for the process that the Boy who got Lucky and Defeated a Dark Lord, otherwise known as the Hero of the Wizarding World, would undergo every night. Then he was faced with the reality.

The first night had an utterly smug Draco leading Severus Snape, Remus Lupin and Sirius Black down to Potter's dorm- room where a shifty eyed Weasley had been waiting for them. The four had positioned themselves around Potters bed whilst Draco had stealthily approached his intended who was shifting restlessly. Snape snorted when Potter calmed as Draco came nearer; until Draco turned and glared so virulently that Snape almost stepped back. Then he remembered the presence of Black and Lupin and gathered his precious dignity and managed to look very dignified despite standing next to a Veela slobbering all over its now semi-conscious and pheromone controlled mate.

The Weasley boy had held his face averted for the entire time with his eyes screwed up and flinched every time an amorous noise echoed through the room, which happened frequently. Lupin had tried to appear entirely unaffected and only curious from an academic point of view, but had blushed in embarrassment within the first five minutes and had grown increasingly redder as time passed. Black bore the look of a stoic warrior determined to undergo any hardship with noble endurance, until Draco had tugged on Harry's hair mid-orgasm and screamed his pleasure, at which point the dog's owner had had to hold him back. Snape had been disgusted…and of course dignified.

However when Draco proceeded to pleasure Potter, Snape had felt the bile rise in his throat. Besides the idea of his godson finding all that shortness and untidy hair attractive, it had reminded Snape all too clearly of the time in his Seventh year when he had caught the Potter's parents mid coitus in an empty classroom. This added to the fact that it was Potter made Snape want to lose his dinner of liver stew.

The night reached its pinnacle of awfulness as Potter expelled his seminal fluid with force just as Draco drew back for a second. And of course the vile liquid just had to end up in Snape's oh so dignified hair. Black went into silent hysterics at the Potion Professor's frozen face, Lupin smirked (and since when had he been allowed to do that). Weasley was unaware due to having his eyes shut (Thank Morgana for small mercies) (because Merlin is just too plebeian for words!))

And then of course Draco had to do it again. Because of course the Draco just had to taste Potter's semen. Snape had cast an Evanesco on the putrescent liquid in his hair before Draco could get close enough to lick it off. The Veela had pouted slightly before realising that this meant he got to pleasure his mate-to-be again. By the end of the night Black actually looked bored, Lupin looked dazed and the Weasley was asleep, having suffered nothing whatsoever. The next night Snape had ensured that he was at a respectable distance from the pair.

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But what was perhaps more hilarious than the nightly incidents were disturbing, was Potter's complete ignorance of what was happening between him and Draco. For some reason the brat had begun to read girlie magazines in very public places, emitting very fake groans whenever anyone passed him. And Snape knew that they were fake because he had heard the real ones. And more than one teacher had deducted points from him for staring at student's breasts, and even one or two Professor's slightly sagging bosoms. McGonagall had never been so shocked in her life. Or so she declared. Snape privately thought she'd been flattered. Which, in Snape's opinion, she shouldn't be, because Potter had no more ability to appreciate the female form than Hagrid could convincingly play the unicorn in the first year's annual production of Who Stole Magic from the Forest?

Draco had taken to stalking his emotionally disturbed future mate, with his cronies of course, only to find himself enraged at the way Potter blushed prettily at Zabini and not him. And he was still more enraged when Potter tried to slip an arm around Parkinson's waist. Snape briefly considered playing with this situation for his own amusement before wondering about Lucius' reaction, and, come to that, Draco's. He hugged Bubbles tighter and discretely shot a Flaky Skin Curse at the student second row from the back, second seat from the right, who sniggered slightly.

No, his life was difficult enough with the return of Lockhart as DADA Professor without adding the Malfoys to the mix. Lockhart had been cured, shortly after Voldemort's defeat to the eternal disappointment of many of his students. Albus had only said mildly, when hotly questioned by Snape why he would let such a narcissistic imbecile back into the school, let alone to teach, 'It is now a time of peace. I think the students have earned a rest. Don't you agree?' Snape didn't think any such thing, but since Albus had pushed a lemon drop into the Potion Professor's mouth, he didn't have the opportunity to say so.

'Sir?' The Professor looked up, decidedly disgruntled, to meet the eyes of the nervous Gryffindor. His eyes moved to the bored students standing next to clean work surfaces and then to the clock which declared that the lesson had been over for five minutes.

'Oh very well, get out all of you!' The students scattered with all the eagerness of Minerva who had caught the scent of catnip.

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Harry turned his head left, he turned it right, he nodded it up and down. Something, he decided, was different. He'd been looking into this mirror for almost an hour, and he was convinced something had changed. He was sure that his hair had not been this shiny a couple of days ago, nor had his lips been so red…well, at least not since he last tried Hermione's strawberry lip-gloss. It wasn't as if he wanted his lips to look redder, he just liked the taste and there was nothing wrong with liking the taste of strawberry lip gloss.

He moved closer to the mirror so that his nose was practically touching it…his nose, that was another thing it seemed have got more dainty. He squeaked. There was no way in Merlin's cauldron that his nose, a male nose, should be looking that dainty all of a sudden. It was like Snape getting up and dancing a jig on a toadstool on St. Patrick's Day whilst wearing a bunny rabbit costume.

Having absolutely no answer for this mysterious occurrence, Harry proceeded to perform his monthly facial hair inspection. He turned his head again inspecting his left side moving closer. Maybe a beard would start to show soon? It was a question he asked himself frequently and it had seemed that the hair on his face had become darker and thicker recently. But today, alas, there was no shadow. To the contrary it seemed that his face had been wiped of any hair that could have identified him in any way as a man. Inspecting the other cheek he found nothing more than skin that was as smooth as a baby's behind. Harry tried to growl but only came out with another small squeak.

'Harry my boy, you are looking fine today,' Seamus said as he strolled nonchalantly towards Harry. He seemed as though he was going to hug Harry from behind before he seemed to check himself and went to sit on his bed.

Harry thought it was all very well saying he looked good, but the way people seemed to be avoiding him couldn't have anything to do with him looking good. He pouted a little to himself, which looked revoltingly girly, and said dismissively, 'Sure, yeah.'

Seamus was a little put out. He liked flirting with Harry; and Harry usually responded on some level, even if he wasn't quite aware of it. The brunette was just too delicious.

'Planning on a date for this Hogsmeade weekend?' Seamus asked before suggesting slyly, 'You could borrow my leather trousers. We'd have to shrink them a bit, but it'd definitely be worth it. Yes…' He paused gazing off into the distance and licking his lips, '…worth it.'

Harry missed Seamus' daydreaming but instead said distractedly, and slightly hysterically, 'What d'you mean, shrink them? I'm manly enough to fit in your trousers. Are you saying I'm girly?'

'No, no.' Seamus said hastily, 'you're all man…' The assertion might have been more convincing if he hadn't painted Harry's nails pink earlier in the day.

'I'll prove I can get into your trousers, here...take those off…'

'Harry, what?!' Seamus backed away hurriedly as Harry advanced towards him and leapt up just as Harry dove for him. Somehow managing to keep out of the brunette reach he leapt over furniture, Harry following closely behind, until he finally dashed for the door.

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Ron was deeply involved in his chess game with Dean in the Great Hall, not that it was that challenging, but letting Dean think he was winning was always funny. He was just pretending to act upset when Dean took a pawn of his, when Seamus sprinted into the Hall, looked around for a bit, before rushing over to them.

'Hide me.' He hissed.

'What?' Ron said dumbly.

'Hide me.' Seamus hissed again looking agitatedly towards the entrance to the Great Hall.

Ron sighed. 'Seamus, if it's that Hufflepuff boy trying to get back together with you again, you should just be honest and tell him you're not interested in a relationship at the moment.' Hermione's influence had taught Ron an emotional intelligance that was bewildering to his friends.

'Shut up about that, it's Harry. He's trying to get into my trousers!' whispered Seamus, mindful of the veela on the other side of the room.

'What?' said Ron, moving his knight whilst Dean gaped at Seamus.

'Harry's trying to get into my trousers,' roared Seamus finally losing patience. It was perhaps unfortunate that he shouted this just as there was a general lull in conversation in the hall and Harry rushed in panting with cheeks flushed, and looking rather attractive in the opinion of several students.

'Seamus! I want Seamus!'

Seamus ducked under the table, hoping to avoid the attention and wrath of the terrifying force of nature that was the current character of Draco Malfoy. Fortunately for him, Draco's attention was entirely caught up with his unsuspecting submissive.

The tall blonde stalked towards Harry in manner that reminded a Hufflepuff third year girl of a white Bengal tiger. Her Ravenclaw friends told her not to be silly. Harry, frantically scanning the crowd in the room and standing on dainty tip-toes to do so, did not notice the advance of the Slytherin until it was too late.

Suddenly finding himself uncomfortably close to the youngest Malfoy, Harry looked up to meet a silver gaze that made him feel decidedly uncomfortable.

'Malfoy,' he tried to say evenly (but it came out a bit wobbly).

'I hear you're trying to get into Finnegan's trousers,' drawled Malfoy sexily.

Not sexily thought Harry. Boys aren't sexy.

Meanwhile Malfoy had continued, 'I wouldn't advise it. You don't know where they've been.' Seamus burned with indignation under the Gryffindor table for a moment, before deciding it was a fair thing to say.

'He said I was too girly to fit in them. I was trying to prove him wrong,' pouted Harry. Seamus was fairly certain he'd never said anything of the sort; not that Harry hadn't become a bit girly lately. When he'd been eating his banana for breakfast, the site of those recently acquired cherry red lips had made several boys within viewing range decidedly uncomfortable.

'I wouldn't say you're girly,' purred Draco, 'just improved in places. And besides, why didn't you try on a pair of trousers that the leprechaun wasn't wearing.'

Harry blinked distractedly as Malfoy sort of moved closer, if that was possible, 'I didn't think of that.'

Ron rolled his eyes and looked at Dean saying, 'He didn't think of it because he's gayer than a fruit cocktail.'

'I just think it's unfair that Malfoy gets to have him,' piped Seamus from under the table, watching between Gryffindors' legs as the veela pulled a dazed looking Harry towards the Slytherins.

'Shut up Seamus. At least you don't have to watch man love every night.'

'Oh Ron, so naïve! I like to watch man love.'

'I bet,' said Ron grimly. 'I've heard stories of your stalking tendencies.'

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Meanwhile Harry was confused. He'd come into the Great Hall hell bent on grabbing Seamus' trousers and humiliating him in front of the school for calling him girly, and somehow it had all ended up with Malfoy dragging him to the Slytherin table and placing him upon his lap, whilst he could see Parkinson practically cooing. Dazed into submission by the surrealistic situation and sitting unresisting whilst Malfoy stroked him arm, his cheek, basically any inch of readily available skin, Harry wondered what in Merlin's lacy underpants was going on? Maybe he should just stare into Zabini's pretty eyes. That always soothed him.