"Family secrets are like vampires. They never really die, and can always come back to bite you."

― Alberta J. McMorris

His Mother's journal in his lap, Theo tried not to weep. He had always wondered why his father had slain his mother in cold blood in front of him and now he had the answer. Theo stared unseeing at the splendour of Nott Manor and let out a ragged breath.

If Thoros ever learns of my creature heritage - the Veela blood that runs in my veins - my life will assuredly be forfeit. I worry for my Theodore should that happen. Would he slay his son and heir as well?

He ran his finger along the words. His father had to have discovered it. It was the only explanation.

Theo's raven black wings shuddered and wrapped around him, his fangs descending into his mouth at the strength of his emotions.

His battle with his tears was finally lost and they flowed down his cheeks. He was a monster. He had bloody fangs and wings for Salazar's sake.

Who could possibly love him now?

On top of that, if he didn't find his mate soon he would die. All the books he'd read on Veela from the Manor's library were painfully clear on that point.

How was any of this fair? Hadn't he given up enough?

...

Theo was grateful that he had developed a little bit of control over his Veela nature, because the chaos of Platform 9 ¾ was pushing his limits horribly. If his heritage had emerged last year, he would have terrified everyone by spreading his wings and baring his fangs in the crowd just to get people to stop jostling him.

Blaise was saying something next to him, but Theo couldn't focus on his friend's voice. There was a scent that hung in the air that had his full attention and he desperately needed to get to the source.

"Let's get on the train," Theo said, attempting not to snarl at his friend, "This crowd is beyond tolerance."

"Of course Lord Nott," Blaise drawled, laughing.

"What was that?"

"You weren't listening at all were you? With your father getting the Kiss, you are Lord Nott now. The debutantes are going to be throwing themselves at you and I'd be surprised if you don't receive at least six marriage contracts before the end of the week. I am no judge of the looks that you are getting from some of the mothers staring at you right now, but I'd wager you may even see a few by dinner, even with that ridiculous beard you have going."

Theo scoffed, but looked around and saw a number of narrowed looks that made him feel more like prey than a Veela.

He shuddered. He'd grown three inches and gained nearly two stone in muscle mass since presenting in June after the final battle. He knew that he looked good, but he couldn't find it in himself to be interested in any of the women that were looking this way. Even Daphne,who he had always wanted to shag,wasn't summoning the slightest bit of interest from his cock and the "come fuck me eyes" she was giving him left no doubt as to her thoughts. She would definitely expect an engagement ring afterwards and no longer feeling even the slightest bit of desire for her made Theo wrinkle his nose up at the thought.

"Disgusting."

Blaise laughed as they entered the train, "You will have to marry someone, Theo."

Theo nodded. He knew that, but he wanted it to be his mate.

But just as Theo was about to respond, he smelt it again. The scent from the platform was wafting down the train car. He tossed his bag to Blaise. "Find a compartment. I'll be back."

"Theo, what the fuck?" Blaise yelled after him, but Theo was already dodging the lower years as he worked his way through the train, leaving his friend behind. He could smell something tantalising, and he had to know what it was, who it was.

As he made his way through the cars, he realised that it was not one scent, but two that were drawing him in. One was like vanilla and old books. The other was petrichor and citrus. They were both coming from the same direction. He worked his way toward the front of the train as it departed the station and the walkways emptied as people found their seats.

It made it much easier to hunt them.

Them, who? Theo wondered. Was that the Veela's thoughts? He didn't like to think that his Veela self was a separate consciousness inside of him; it made him uncomfortable.

He tried to ignore it because the need was burning through him and he didn't like the worrisome thought that he was out of control. He just had to find where those smells were coming from.

Suddenly, the compartment door in front of him flew open and a curly haired goddess stood there with her hands on her hips, glaring at whoever was inside.

"You know what, Ginny? Fuck Ronald and fuck you!" She slammed the door so hard that she nearly toppled over, but Theo was right there. He would always be right there.

He had her by the waist before she fully fell into him, but the contact left him breathless with trousers that suddenly felt much tighter than they had a moment before.

"Granger, careful now. I've got you," Theo breathed onto her neck. She was so much smaller than he remembered her being.

She turned in his grip and her pupils dilated as she looked up at him. The scent of her arousal caused his nostrils to flare.

She wasn't immune to him. That was very good.

"Nott," she exhaled, "You can let go of me now." Her eyes were bright as though she was going to cry. Why was she upset?

Theo did not release her, but turned and saw the Weaslette and some other Gryffindors staring open mouthed at him from inside the compartment. He glared briefly, barely containing a snarl complete with fangs.

"Did the Weaselette upset you?" Theo murmured, barely keeping from kissing her, claiming her, pulling her into one of the compartments nearby and shagging her until she couldn't walk.

"Why do you care if someone makes a filthy little Mudblood like me upset?" She said, her caustic words without any venom, only sorrow colouring her words. Theo felt his heart clench. "Won't Malfoy hate that someone else is stealing his job?" She was fighting back tears and looked back at the compartment where the occupants had continued to stare at her.

"Granger," Theo growled warningly, "who hurt you?"

"Fuck you, Nott," She snarled, "Who hasn't hurt me?" With that, she turned and stomped down the car, her warm vanilla scent teasing him.

His Veela demanded that he chase her, comfort her, possess her, but he had to calm himself; he needed to give her space. He needed to make her trust him and rely on him, only then could he claim her. She would be his. She was already his. She just didn't know it yet.

Their eyes met as she opened the door to the loo. He saw her mouth whispering a silencing charm as she slammed the door. Brat.

He loved a challenge.

Now he just had to find that other smell. It was nearby as well. He came to a compartment where Draco was sitting looking miserable with Goyle attempting to talk to him.

Of course. He should have recognized that smell in the first place.

He slid the door open and smiled. "Greg. Draco."

"Oi, Theo," Goyle said, smiling. "I was wondering where you were."

"I was with Blaise. In fact, can you find him and bring him here?"

"Oh sure thing mate!" Greg replied, kindly, "Maybe you can cheer up Draco here. He's busy self-flagellating."

"Oh fuck off, Greg," Draco drawled, closing his eyes as he leaned his head back.

Theo felt the thrill go through him as the door shut behind Greg and he sat next to Draco, aware that he was now taller and broader than his friend. The smell of Draco was overwhelming his senses in the enclosed space. Theo grabbed Draco and pulled him onto his lap so that Draco was straddling him, their chests pressed together. The blond made a noise of surprise, but relaxed into Theo's grip, especially when he felt Theo's hard cock beneath him.

"Theo, what the fuck? We broke up, remember?" Draco whimpered, but didn't pull away. Gripping Draco's hips, Theo rubbed Draco against him and released some of his Veela pheromones, watching as Draco's eyes glazed, his cock responding to Theo's scent and the rolling of Theo's hips.

"A mistake that will not be repeated. You are mine," Theo whispered against Draco's lips before claiming them. Theo's fingers on Draco's hips were tight with bruising pressure. Draco moaned into Theo's mouth and Theo felt pleasure down to his toes. He'd claim him now if he could, bite him, bury himself inside of his hot wanton body. Unfortunately, Greg and Blaise were probably already on their way back. It would have to wait until tonight. "That's it. That's my good boy."

Draco shivered with desire from the praise.

If Granger was going to be a challenge, Draco would be the salve to his wounds while he pursued her. And he would get her, Theo felt the confidence flowing through him. She would not be able to resist the pull to him for long. She'd reacted to him and all he had done was put his hands on her waist.

Two mates. Theo groaned and gripped Draco's hair tilting his head back so he could nip along his porcelain neck, tasting each scar from Potter's curse like they were the sweetest nectar.

Sweet Circe, how had he gotten so lucky?