Title: Of Veela and Solicitors

Disclaimer: Yes, as you all know I'm certifiable. And HP belongs to Rowling.

Author's Notes: My counter to the old Veela!Draco thing.

Albus Dumbledore took a moment to slowly suck on a lemon sherbet to keep his face from puckering completely as he watched the smug look pasted upon the face of Lucius Malfoy across from him. Next to him, a slightly flustered and red faced Draco still managed to convey the same smug expectation. The third Malfoy, on the other side of Draco, Narcissa, stared ahead, stone faced and coldly neutral.

Her eyes though, betrayed a fear and uncertainty that was far more appropriate for their situation than the looks upon her son and husband's faces.

"So, just to be certain I am correct in your… proposal," Albus stated as he took another long suck upon on the sherbet in his mouth, "You believe your son, Draco, to be of veela descent, and with this onset of puberty, has recognized Harry Potter as his intended mate."

There was another pause and another long suck of the sweet, "If a relationship between them is not properly consummated and bonded, then the young Mr. Malfoy would begin to waste away, despondent and alone."

"You already know this, Headmaster," Lucius agreed with a narrowing of his eyes, "Surely you would not condemn an innocent child to such a fate?"

Albus was tempted to laugh out loud at the assentation. He was tempted to tell him that he had already done far worse to someone he cared far, far more for. He was tempted to coldly tell them that they had his condolences for the loss of their son, and that he'd send them a flower when it was time for the funeral.

Temptation of that sort was something he had long since learned to ignore. Despite how much some continued to tempt him.

"I think that fortunately, the young Mr. Potter has just arrived to join us," Dumbledore noted as he finished the sherbet and gestured towards the opening door to reveal a confused looking Harry Potter.

"You wanted to see me, Professor?" the tone was polite, if overly wary, especially upon seeing just who it was that also occupied the office.

"Yes, Harry, if you could please take a seat?" Dumbledore gestured to a rather ornate and imposing chair that appeared next to him, "The Malfoys have a proposition they wish to hear."

"A… proposition?" Harry repeated as he carefully walked around the three seated individuals then took a seat in the surprisingly comfortable chair that allowed him to somehow look down at the family.

"Yes," Dumbledore agreed with a nod of his head as he reached for his candy dish, "Sherbet?"

"No, thank you, sir," Harry responded respectfully while the headmaster took one candy and popped it back into his mouth.

"Very well," Dumbledore said as he nodded his head, "They believe that young Draco here is suffering from a particular… condition, whose root cause is a trace of veela ancestry. You recall the delightful Ms Delacour from Beauxbatons?"

"We've kept in touch," Harry agreed with a slight blush and a nod of his head, "What does that have to do with me?"

"This condition, which does not occur in Veela themselves, but in wizards and witches that still carry on the legacy of their inhuman ancestors," Albus did not smile at the stiffening of Lucius and Draco. He did not smirk at the flush of outrage that fell across their features.

He did so want to though, but he soldiered on, a Headmaster's work was never done, "This causes them to... imprint themselves upon an individual they have particularly… powerful feelings for."

"… Imprint, sir?" Harry stated a feeling of dread starting to grow in his stomach.

"Indeed," Albus said gravely. He again thanked Nicolas Flammel for teaching him such wonderful occlumancy skills, "This causes rather focused fascination with the individual they've imprinted upon. Harmless if properly reported in the beginning, if left unchecked, it leaves the… vitality of their lives dependent on the person they've imprinted on."

He paused and sucked on his sherbet, "Young Draco, alas, chose not to properly report his reaction. Either because he lacked the courage to overcome his embarrassment, or because his father never had the courage to inform him of its dangers."

Both father and son purpled at that, glaring daggers at Dumbledore, before Lucius hissed out, "Get on with it, Headmaster!"

"Now, Mr. Malfoy, I am simply insuring that Mr. Potter understands the full implications of the situation. We have already seen the troubles that have been caused by people not fully understanding the consequences of the situation. No need to compound upon it."

The sullen, glowering glares from the two Malfoy males only increased in intensity, but they made no further objections as he continued, "So glad you agree. Now, when a witch or wizard imprints upon someone, they develop a fascination, then an obsession with them. This leads to the development of… amorous feelings of a most carnal nature towards the one they're imprinted upon."

As Harry looked towards Draco, he paled. When he saw the look in the boy's eyes, he turned green. When he looked back to Dumbledore, he silently pleaded with the man that he was joking.

Dumbledore gave Harry a sad look of confirmation as he continued, "Which leads us to the issues with this scenario. If they are in fact rejected by the one they've imprinted upon, which is often the case, and thus the reason why those with veela ancestry should make sure to always inform their children that if they ever start to feel the start of the process, they are to inform a medi-witch or their parents, then they become despondent, and slowly sink into a spiraling depression, rendering them impotent and near comatose.

"They simply waste away, and if unattended will do so by starving or thirst, in a pile of their own filth," Dumbledore finished with a pursing of his lips. "As you have guessed you are the one whom young Draco has imprinted upon."

"Ah," Harry slowly nodded his head and lightly furrowed his brow, "… Is that why you asked me here, sir?"

"No," Albus admitted with a kind of cheerfulness, "That is what they expected me to ask you here for. I, personally, asked you here because I was rather under the impression your response would be a resounding negative."

Harry smiled slightly, while Lucius shot out of his chair his hand going for his wand, "WHAT?!"

"Mr. Malfoy… do you truly wish to raise your wand to me?" Albus asked with a detached smile as he looked at the man over his half-moon glasses, "I would advise against it, but, alas, we know that you have never been one to listen to my advice."

Lucius' hand trembled, rage warring with fear as he looked upon the still seated old man that showed not even an ounce of fear or uncertainty. It was then, that the rational part of his mind reminded him that he was about to draw his wand on the only man his master feared. The only one even he could not defeat.

And so, Lucius faltered, his hand leaving his wand undrawn, "He is my son!"

"Who was put in the situation either by your neglect, or his own foolishness," Dumbledore responded simply and flatly, "And you in turn try to turn that failure around to try and use it to force young Harry here to submit to your manipulations based on his entirely too generous and honorable nature."

"… I still would've said no, but I might've felt a bit bad about it," Harry admitted to the Headmaster.

"Draco will die then," Lucius stated, glaring furiously at Harry, who reluctantly looked away, "My son will die and you'll just sit there, watching and letting it happen?!"

"… And he would've done differently?" Harry responded, before looking back up at Lucius with a sudden burning of his emerald eyes, "If by some twist of fate, it had been me in his position, would you have pushed him to accept? No. You would've smirked, and bloody watched with glee while I died. So, I bloody well won't ruin my own life for you and your prat of a son."

"And that, I do believe concludes this meeting," Dumbledore stated simply as in one, fluid motion he stood, "I do wish you a good evening, I will allow you a few moments with your son before you depart."

"What will it take?" Narcissa spoke for the first time as she stared hard at Harry, then looked towards Dumbledore, "What will it cost us for you to accept it?"

Harry stared at her without comprehension, "… I already said no."

"Money? Power? Influence?" Narcissa pressed on, staring at him, with almost feverish eyes, "Do we have to offer ourselves as your slaves? What will it take then!?"

"Narcissa!" Lucius hissed out in alarm as he rose again from his seat.

"You have sold yourself and us for far, far less and you know it, Lucius!" Narcissa snapped back, "I will sell my soul a thousand times over if it means I don't have to watch my son turn into slowly rotting shell while he's still alive!"

Albus pursed his lips for a moment in thought, before lightly placing his hand on Harry's shoulder, "Harry? Might I have a word with you in private?"

"I… All right, sir," Harry said reluctantly as he glanced towards Narcissa and Draco before moving with the headmaster to another part of his office.

A flick of Albus' wand drew a purple curtain, embroidered by curling, golden birds flying between beautiful, blossoming tree branches. Narcissa and Lucius swallowed heavily at the display, though Draco only seemed confused at his parents reaction, maintaining the silence they had made him swear to for the duration of the meeting. The elder Malfoys, however, were again reminded that they were in the presence of a man that was widely considered one of the greatest wizards in history, and largely considered the world's foremost master of transfiguration.

With another flick striking the closed curtain, a privacy spell fell into place before Dumbledore regarded Harry for a moment, before smiling back at him reassuringly, "It's all right, Harry. I am not going to insist upon you agreeing to save the Malfoys from their foolishness."

A bit of the tension in Harry' shoulders melted at that, before he frowned and looked back at him, "Then what did you want to talk about, sir?"

"You still feel guilty, do you not?" He noted smiling at Harry with a sad, knowing nod of his head.

"I… Yes, sir," Harry admitted as his eyes fell to the floor, "Is there really nothing that can be done to save him?"

"Without you? No, I'm afraid not," Dumbledore admitted with a laconic shrug of his shoulders, before pausing slightly, "There is, however something that I imagine the Malfoys will not willingly admit to."

"I'm not going to do… any of that kind of things with him!" Harry quickly protested.

"And if he was a her instead of a him?" Dumbledore asked simply, while Harry stared at him with his jaw dropped down towards the ground, "I mentioned earlier that there was in fact a way to cure this, when it first began, yes?"

Harry slowly nodded his head in remembrance, "Yes, sir."

"This is not due to how common the condition is in modern times. It is, in fact, due to the fact that in the past, forcing this to happen was a means of completely conquering your foes," Dumbledore noted with a sad look in his eyes, "And, naturally, there would be those that had little use for their… current forms."

For a moment, Harry stared at Dumbledore, struggling to process the meaning of his words, before the conclusion ground his thoughts almost to a halt, "… Make Draco… a girl?"

"I was going to suggest a house elf, but there are a variety of humanoid magical creatures that most young wizards find… attractive," Dumbledore admitted with a chuckle.

Harry blushed brightly, before frowning slightly, "But… why a magical creature?"

"The nature of the affliction of due to the descent from such a creature," Albus stated by way of explanation, "Inflicting a permanent change upon them… What they can become will be a creature of some sort, either chosen, or the process itself picks one for… compatibility."

"… Then, why a house elf?" Harry asked honestly.

"It's magic would be bound to you, thus supplying it's need to be in your presence… though, it also likely develop an… unhealthy infatuation with you," Dumbledore admitted.

"… Worse than Dobby?" Harry asked worriedly.

"I would not speak ill of such a devoted friend by making a comparison," Dumbledore stated simply, "But, consider the nature of his… condition."

Harry paled at the thought, "I could tell him not to?"

"And you've seen how good house elves are at obeying orders," Albus agreed with a soft smile.

The image his words conjured were not what he intended, as he recalled the various ways Dobby had attempted to help him, despite the orders of his family.

"… I guess we could try the ritual…" Harry said reluctantly, "… It's not going to turn him into something even more… well, you know, right?"

"The ritual does specify certain requirements for the form, and from what I'm aware of, there were not generally any displeasure expressed from the results," Dumbledore stated, before pausing as he looked at Harry, "I do not, however , wish to cause you any undue stress, my boy. You have already had more than enough placed on your young shoulders."

"… Um, well… he wouldn't be able to really do all the things he's been doing, would he?" Harry asked nervously, before frowning a bit, "Though… what's to stop him from being a jerk after I agree and it's done? Will I still be stuck with him?"

"Oh, I think I can handle that," Dumbledore assured him his eyes winkling, madly, "Just leave it to me, and just let me do the talking… I know exactly how to handle this. And try not to look surprised and what I say."

"Ah, ok, sir?" Harry said, looking confused.

And with that, the curtain and privacy spell was dispelled, revealing a rather anxious looking Malfoy family. Smiling benignly Albus calmly gestured for Harry to take his seat again and resumed his place behind his desk. For a moment, he said nothing as he picked up a new lemon sherbet and lightly popped it into his mouth.

Lucius twitched slightly, staring at them as his face flushed and he clenched his hand again on his cane, "Well?"

Albus took one last exaggerated suckle on his lemon drop before smiling at them, "My young charge would be willing to accept young Draco as a house elf, for a quarter of the Malfoy estate."

Harry only just barely kept his eyes from widening as he listened to Dumbledore's offer. Immediately, he was rewarded by the bulging of all three Malfoy's eyes as their faces alternated between ashen, flushed, and a rather familiar shade of puce. He had to admit, the offer was worth it, just for that reaction.

"That, that… Outrageous!" Lucius was flushed, turning almost purple like Harry's Uncle did on occasion as he gripped the arms of his chair with a creaking force, "A… a Malfoy, a house elf?! My son, a HOUSE ELF?!"

"Please! Some dignity!" Narcissa pleaded desperately as she gripped tightly upon Draco's hand with an almost bone crushing force as the boy tried to open his mouth to say something, but nothing would come out, "I… mercy, please!"

Albus looked towards Harry curiously, who just looked back at Albus and raised a brow expectantly. Nodding his head as if in understanding, Dumbledore turned his head back to the family across the table from him, "Well, my young charge is willing to allow the young Mr. Malfoy to undergo the unspecified ritual… for half of the Malfoy estate."

"Half?!" Lucius almost squeaked in outrage, "A Third!"

"Fifty Five percent and your oaths of allegiance and loyalty to House Potter," Albus responded calmly, as he smiled benignly at them.

"… You can't just… you…" Lucius sputtered staring at Albus in horror.

"Ah, I'm sorry you were laboring under the assumption that this was a negotiation, my boy," Albus said with a smile, "If you find the terms unacceptable, well, alas, far be it from me to keep you here. After all, this is for something my charge is highly reluctant to do."

"Lucius…" Narcissa stated as she looked at her husband.

"Narcissa, you cannot be serious!" Lucius demanded as he looked at his wife.

"It is Draco!" she stated, giving him a look.

"But…!" Lucius protested again, only to glance from his wife to his son, and then back, "But…"

The protest was weak, even to Draco's ears as Lucius stared back at them, a resigned horror starting to cross his face, "I…"

"Of course, given your reluctance I'm going to have to insist that should either of you or your son conspire or act against Harry, through action or inaction, he no longer has any responsibility to keep the young Malfoy around," Albus stated simply as he smiled pleasantly at the two.

Lucius' eyes didn't even flash as the comment registered and his whole body seemed to slump, as he commented flatly, "And the payment would be forfeit."

"It is simple common business sense," Albus stated apologetically, not that anyone believed he was truly sorry about it.

Lucius just stared at the man for a long moment, struggling against what he knew he would say. Wordlessly, he looked back at his wife, watching her as she gave him a nod, her face pale, lips pressed tightly together as she gripped upon her son's hand like a vice.

"… Agreed," he stated as he slumped down, hanging his head as he refused to look at either his wife or son, "Payment and oaths upon completion of the ritual."

"Of course, it was a pleasure to be able to resolve this in a… satisfactory manner," Albus agreed before holding up his candy dish, "Sherbet?"

The Malfoys merely glared, impotently at him, before Lucius stood, "If you don't mind, Headmaster, I believe we will adjourn so that we can properly… discuss the implications of this."

"Of course, of course. If you have any issues, my door is quite open to those needing my help," Albus nodded sagely, "Have a good day."

After the Malfoy's left, Harry turned his head and looked at where Albus was happily sucking on a sherbet, "… Professor Dumbledore, sir?"

"Yes, Harry, my boy?"

"Don't take this the wrong way, but, you scare me, sir," Harry stated bluntly.

"Old age and cunning, my boy, old age and cunning," Dumbledore stated with a chuckle.

-o-o-o-

Dearest Fleur,

How have you been? I won't inflict my horrible attempts at French upon you anymore, so you can be assured I will use my simple English for our correspondence. I know it's been a bit of time since I last wrote, but things have been… Well, interesting to say the least. But, as you might've guessed from my previous letters that life has had little interest in giving me any degree of normalcy.

Do you recall a blond boy in my year at Hogwarts, the Slytherin, often referred to as the bouncing ferret after a certain point in time? Pureblood ponce? It turns out that he has some Veela blood in him.

Did that get your attention? It certainly got mine. I didn't even know what that meant until Dumbledore told me. And again, my luck struck. He imprinted on me.

Have I mentioned lately how much I absolutely hate my luck? I mean, really, truly hate it? Probably, but I feel this warrants another mention of it.

Because the damned idiot ignored the signs it was too late to stop it.

I was this, and I do mean this close to just letting it happen, I was even on the way out when his mother, Narcissa Malfoy, said they'd give anything.

That was when Dumbledore took me aside and explained to me what my options were. I mean… I know it was Draco's own stupidity, but… Dammit, she was making me feel guilty about it!

Yes, I know, stupid.

So, he started to talk about the options. Either turn Draco into a houself, or do some kind of ritual that changed his body into another type of magical creature. As long as they paid a lot of money. Then, when they argued, he kept increasing the amount.

Finally, there was an agreement, with some provisions for if they try to go back on their word or they do something to cause problems. You know how they are. I even get 55% of the Malfoy estate out of it, and keep it if they break the contract.

I can't believe I let them talk me into it. Do you think I should back out of it? I mean the ritual doesn't actually take place until the end of the week…

Hope you're doing well at Gringotts.

Harry.

Fleur stared at the letter and then read it over again, then, a third time to be sure she was reading it correctly. Turning her head, she stared at the snowy white owl who had delivered the letter and asked, "… 'Ow iz it that he can keep getting 'imself into zese situations?"

Hedwig ruffled her feathers, as if shrugging her wings and tilted her head to the side as she gave the French witch a flat look.

"… Yes, yes, it iz 'Arry," she agreed with a sigh, "What am I going to do with ze' boy?"

Again, Hedwig ruffled her feathers, before miming swatting something with her wing.

"I do not zink that would be too terribly effective on 'Arry," Fleur noted with a slight smile, "Zough, I will keep it in mind."

She glanced at the letter again, before pursing her lips thoughtful, "Well, zis deal… it will require a contract, non?"

There was a pause, before she suddenly brightened as the truly vicious smile that had won her the job at Gringotts passed her lips. "We will simply 'ave to make sure that it is a truly… appropriate one."

The giggling laughter turned into a sadistic cackling as Fleur went to work, drawing up a contract that would, for many years afterwards, be considered a mix of artistic master piece and legal brilliance that won her an immediate promotion.

-o-o-o-

Albus Dumbledore blinked as he was treated to the sight of a disheveled and maniacally grinning French witch as he found Fleur bouncing on her heels outside of his office that morning. Her clothes were rumpled and worn, her hair slightly a mess and her fingers covered in ink marks. All in all, she looked more like some deranged mad woman than the stylish Tri-wizard champion.

"Ah, good morning to you, Ms Delacour, I take it you wanted to see me?" he asked, smiling simply at the girl as he could practically feel the manic energy she was exuding.

"Oui, Headmaster Dumbledore," she almost sang the words as she held up a legal document, "'Arry wrote me. Such a sweet, wonderful boy he is! Ze ideas, ze possibilitiez! Oh, 'ow zey sang!"

Albus blinked, then peered down at Fleur, "Ms. Delacour, when was the last time you slept?"

"Sleep? Pah! Sleep is for later! After your foes have been driven before you in abject and complete destruzion!" she giggled as she held up the contract, before frowning slightly as she took on an almost coquettishly thoughtful expression, "At least 'Arry's enemies."

Deciding to humor the obviously sleep deprived young girl, he took the contract from her, and carefully began to read through it. Then, he frowned as he gestured and the gargoyle leapt away, revealing the stairs. Quickly absorbing himself in the contract, he rose up the stairs to his office, only half paying attention to how Fleur followed him.

As she stood in front of the desk, still lightly bouncing on her heels her eyes danced, eager, hungry as she awaited his assessment.

There was a pause, after he finished reading through the contract where he simply sat there, staring at it as he cycled through it again with occlumancy and organized his thoughts, "… Ms. Delacour?"

"Oui?" she asked, smiling like a shark as she held her hands clasped behind her back.

"This is one of the singularly frightening things I have ever had the pleasure of reading," he stated simply as he looked at her, "And you wrote this for Mr. Potter?"

"Ooooooooooui!" she drawled out, giggling again as she clasped her hands together in front of her chest and bounced a bit, "Do you think he'll like it?"

"I am quite positive, once he sees the look on the Malfoy's faces, when they see just what they'll be asked to sign, he will indeed," Dumbledore agreed with a nod. "And you came up with this so quickly?" he paused and gave her a thoughtful look, "Have you slept any since you started this?"

"Not a wink!" she responded still grinning maniacally on the inspiration induced high.

"Of course," he agreed with a grandfatherly smile, before making a gesture, a silver phoenix flying around her head a moment, causing her to giggle again before it flew down the stairs. "Why don't we tell Harry the good news?"

"Yes!" Fleur agreed again, nodding her head eagerly as she continued bouncing on her heels, it wouldn't do for her to stay still, she needed to make sure, she needed him to know what kind of brilliance he had inspired! And a part of her whispered that he really deserved a reward for it.

A part of Albus felt guilty about at least somewhat taking advantage of the girl in front of him. It was quite obvious she wasn't fully in her right mind. Inspiration driven exhaustion could do very… illogical things to one's brain. He knew that from most personal experience.

Still, she quite obviously cared about Harry, so, it wouldn't be like he was taking too much advantage of her.

When Harry appeared in the door way, he spoke up, "You… called for me, sir?"

"'Arry!" Fleur declared as she beamed happily at him, "I brought a present!"

"… Fleur…?" Harry stated, staring at the girl he had never seen in such a state. Even when she'd been dripping wet and shivering in fear during the second task, there had always been a kind of… sophistication, refinement about her.

The girl in front of him now looked more like a mussed up, and rather hyper active kitten, grinning maniacally as if she had just caught and devoured a sugar canary.

"Oui!" she agreed with a now, before frowning and almost pouting, "'Ho else would I be?"

Harry looked hopefully towards Dumbldore, even as he could feel Fleur almost jumping on him and hugging him tightly. "Um… sir, did someone… put her under a spell?"

"No, nothing like that," Albus responded with an innocent smile on his lips, "She simply… over indulged in her inspiration, she's been several nights without sleep I do believe."

"Only trois!" Fleur protested as she waved her hand dismissively while still nuzzling against Harry, almost purring happily, "And what is sleep compared to l'insperation!? Ze have already given me un promotion for zis! Deux!"

She paused before whispering loudly to Harry, "I zink I scared ze goblins… Or aroused zem, I am no sure which."

"Likely both," Albus stated sagely, before looking at Harry, "Fleur decided to take the initiative and come up with a contract for the Malfoys. I dare say, never have I seen such a… dare I say diabolical, contract?"

"… I don't look evil, do I, 'Arry?" Fleur asked as she pouted, batting her eye lashes at him.

Harry stared at her for a moment, before slumping his shoulders, "… Yes, you do."

For a moment, she paused, frowning just a bit as her lip trembled a bit, "But, you still like me, oui?"

Shoulders slumping, Harry nodded his head helplessly, "Yes, Fleur, I still like you."

"Tres bien!" she declared, before hugging him even tighter and smiling happily.

Nodding his head, Dumbledore smiled benignly at Harry, "Fortunately, she arrived with plenty of time for her to get some rest before the Malfoys appear this evening. Why don't you have a seat, Harry, there some things for us to talk about."

Somehow managing to shift himself about into the seat with Fleur refusing to let go of him, he then froze in shock as she happily climbed up on his lap, curling against his chest and promptly… fell asleep.

"… Um, sir…?" Harry asked helplessly.

"You do want her to sleep, don't you?" Albus asked innocently as she began to make a cute almost whistling sound as she snuggled tightly against Harry's warmth.

"Yes, but…?" Harry gestured helplessly, "I… how'm I supposed to go to class like this?"

"I'm sure one day of missed lessons won't be too terribly much," Albus stated as he smiled at the boy, "Best you keep your new solicitor happy. They are fearsome creatures when irritated."

"But….!" Harry protested again before winced as he Fleur unconsciously tightened her grip on him, frowning in her sleep, "…. I don't have a choice, do I?"

"Your life is truly unique, Harry. Best you simply accept it," Albus advised and smiled at the boy, "Especially the perks it comes with."

Harry sighed and slumped back into the chair in surrender as he felt Fleur relaxing, and again unconsciously nuzzling against him as she settled in to enjoy her slumber.