Chapter Twenty-Seven of 'Fairest Creatures'- Messages From the Aurors
Chapter Twenty-Six.
Title: Fairest Creatures (27/?)
Disclaimer: J. K. Rowling and associates own these characters. I am writing this story for fun and not profit.
Pairing: Harry/Draco, one-sided Harry/others
Warnings: Creature fic (Veela), ridiculousness
Rating: R
Summary: Of course, Harry would be the only person in wizarding history to get turned into a Veela by a chain of coincidences and then compelled to attend Veela finishing school to learn about his new powers. And the only one of those who has to get instructed by Draco Malfoy, for that matter. Who does not look any better with wings.
Author’s Notes: I came up with this idea a little while ago and tried to get it to stop being ridiculous. It refused. In fact, it gathered more ridiculousness to itself. Therefore, I decided to write it before it got so ridiculous that it made my head explode. This will be updated on Sundays. The title is from William Shakespeare’s first sonnet: “From fairest creatures we desire increase,/ That thereby beauty’s rose might never die.”
Chapter One.
Thank you again for all the reviews!
Chapter Twenty-Seven--Messages From the Aurors
Good opinion or not, Testig did glare when the owl flew directly into the middle of her class and landed on Harry's shoulder, hooting softly. Harry did his best to shrug and look apologetic, as much as he could when he was trying to stand up and move out of the class and disentangle the owl's beak and talons from his feathers all at once. It appeared to have decided he was a giant bird it needed to preen.
He didn't ask Draco to stand and come with him, but that was what happened. Harry spread his right wing to touch Draco's left while he finally got the letter off the owl's leg and opened it.
It had the Ministry seal on it, and he almost expected it to be a letter demanding his resignation immediately. Instead, it had Kingsley Shacklebolt's signature on it, and demanded to know when he could finish his Veela training and return to work.
Harry stared at it in silence, then let his head fall back until it banged against the wall with a steady thump. He would have tried that again, but Draco put his wing between Harry's head and the wall and stared at him until Harry stood up straight, grumbling an apology.
"You're not to hurt yourself."
"I know. I just--I don't know whether this means that Kingsley doesn't know I'm not capable of returning to the Aurors, by their own rules, or if he thinks he can override those and make people accept me."
Draco held out his hand for the letter. Harry gave it to him and spent a minute scowling at the floor.
He'd come to terms with not being able to return to the Aurors. Hermione had written him a few encouraging letters with discoveries about Veela that helped with that, but most of it was Draco, honestly. Draco, who offered him more real companionship than any of the fickle Aurors except Ron ever had. Harry no longer thought much about what he'd lost in comparison to what he'd gained.
But now, with the sudden chance, all those thoughts came back about somehow reconciling himself with the Aurors without actually returning to them. Harry sighed and glanced at Draco to see what he thought.
Draco was holding the letter as if it was a dead rat. Harry had to grin. "What?"
"I think, from the tone of this letter, that he does know." Draco spun the letter a little and stared at it, wrinkling his nose. "But he assumes that you'll be perfectly happy with doing paperwork behind your desk for the rest of your life. He thinks he has something to offer a Veela."
"Why do you think that?"
"The references to 'proper work' and 'not letting lack of experience in this field discourage you.'" Draco sniffed. "I assume you have plenty of experience in the actual field, so it can only refer to what he thinks you'll be doing in the future."
Harry took the letter back and read it again, with Draco standing helpfully behind him to stab his wingtip at various phrases. Now that Harry looked more closely, yes, it did seem as if Kingsley thought he could continue in the Aurors as long as he never went on a mission again.
Harry breathed slowly to control his anger. He still didn't know if Kingsley knew about the prejudice he'd faced. He might agree with it, given that he seemed to have decided Harry would distract his partners with his Veela-ness or whatever, but he might not have heard about the ultimatum Harry had got.
"What do you think I should do?"
"Floo him or owl him right now," Draco said promptly. "Testig won't be any angrier about you missing the rest of her class than she was about you leaving in the middle of it."
Harry nodded in silence and went to his bedroom. The more he thought about it, the more he thought he'd prefer to Floo. He'd needed Draco to help him interpret some ambiguous phrases in the last letter. He would rather not have to squint and guess at what Kingsley meant next time.
Draco locked the door behind Harry without having to be asked. Harry flashed him a smile that made him fluff, and then he knelt down, undid a couple of protections on his Floo, and cast in powder, calling out, "Shacklebolt's office!"
It took a long moment before he felt the connection form, which meant Kingsley was probably either busy with someone else or trying to figure out who was calling him. Then his face formed in the flames. He blinked several times, maybe because Harry was crouched on the floor, half-shirtless and with his wings lifted around him. "Harry?"
"Yes." Harry brandished the letter he'd got. "I just want to know what this means. Do you really expect me to sit behind a desk for the rest of my life, mutely grateful that I get to do whatever you think a Veela can do? I'm trained as a field Auror, you know that. I'm going to be miserable if it turns out that I can't do that. I'd rather not be an Auror at all."
Kingsley leaned slowly back, his eyes narrowed. By watching him, Harry still had no idea if he'd already realized this would be a problem. But Draco gave a little hiss behind him, and Harry thought that meant his mate recognized there was a problem, at least.
"You know the problems with a Veela being a field Auror."
"I know the prejudices, the mistaken ideas that might have made some people suggest it," said Harry sweetly. "I want to know if you share those prejudices and that's why you're not going to be offering me my job back."
He felt the brush of Draco's wing on his spine, and would have smiled if he didn't think it would shatter the facade he was trying to build with Kingsley. Let him not know Harry had all but decided on not returning. It would make his bargaining position stronger.
Kingsley sighed hard enough that Harry thought bubbles would come out of his mouth. "It's not so much what I think, personally, Harry. It's the perceptions other people have. I know you wouldn't do half of what they think you would."
"What are those things? Jared could hardly describe them to me."
"Enchanting your partners. Distracting them from their work, or making their partners jealous. Possibly involving your mate if you get into dangerous situations. Causing legal situations if you use your Veela powers or allure to capture criminals."
Harry swallowed around the thick sourness at the back of his throat. "You've really thought about this, haven't you?"
Kingsley met his gaze evenly. "We've had half-Veela Aurors before. They did get in trouble. And got other people in trouble. I don't think it was always on purpose. But that's what happened, and that's why we have the rules we do."
"So I'm to blame for the fact that other people can't control themselves."
Harry became aware that he had almost barked the words. Draco was standing behind him, one wing still held out to touch his spine. Harry focused himself on that small point of warmth and took a deep swallow of air.
"Okay. That means that I'm not going to be a field Auror again, as far as you're concerned. And the other Aurors are concerned," he added, because he thought Kingsley was opening his mouth to claim that, once again, he had no personal prejudice against Veela.
"Yes, I think it means that."
"Okay," Harry repeated, and closed his eyes, and floated in some kind of drifting, distant air. Draco was the one to bring him back, draping his wing across his chest. That meant Kingsley could see him and become aware he was present, but Harry thought that hardly mattered now. "Then I'll send in my resignation letter as soon as I can find the time to write it."
"I thought the Aurors were your life, Harry."
It was the chiding tone that made Harry open his eyes, lean towards the hearth, and snap, "They were. Until they turned on me and made it clear that they only valued me for my skills, and they couldn't get over this accident that I suffered."
He shut the Floo connection with a hard ring of his hand. Draco promptly bent over him and cooed into his ear, and Harry turned, burying his face in feathers until Draco had to stagger back and sit on the bed.
"Make me forget," Harry whispered to him. "Just--show me what I've earned, not what's been taken away from me."
Draco reached down and slid his hands under Harry's armpits. Harry helped by beating his own wings a little, or he'd probably not have been able to get him off the floor. They turned, cheek to cheek, and sighed together, and then Draco flew Harry up into the air and put him on the bed.
“How would you like me to make you forget?” Draco asked a second later, and knelt at Harry’s feet with his wings spread around him, drooping and magnificent, his head drooping a little too. Only long experience let Harry be sure that there was a smile sneaking around the corner of his mouth.
“You’ve already made a good start.”
Draco sighed and flapped at the same time, and then reached out and unhooked Harry’s trousers with a single delicate motion of his fingers. Then he leaned forwards and sealed his mouth around Harry’s cock as though they’d had a discussion about it.
Harry bucked and swore. Draco simply moved with him, and settled back into place when he could, fluttering wings and beautiful face and all.
Harry reached down, moving his fingers along Draco’s cheek. For an instant, he was full of wonder at the way Draco’s eyes closed in pleasure, as if he was the one who was being sucked right now.
Just from a simple touch.
And then Harry was too focused on his own pleasure, his wings flapping, his head tilting back as the burning warmth made its way up from his cock through his chest. God, his heart ached from the heat, and his feathers were starting to stand on end, and he wouldn’t be surprised, if Draco licked him sideways one more time-
Draco licked him sideways.
Harry came.
It wasn’t anything planned, and he swore again as he felt how big a wet mouthful Draco was getting. He reached out and dipped his fingers under Draco’s chin and murmured, “Are you all right?”
Draco stared at him for a second, wings rustling, and the blue bars glowing brightly alongside the black ones. Then he laughed, and wiped his mouth a little, and shook his head. “My mate just came in my mouth. Oh, no, spare me this horrible suffering.” He clasped his hands over his heart and let his eyes roll back in his head.
But when he did that, he strained the cloth around his chest and his groin, and Harry saw the erection that made such a bulge against his trousers. He reached down and threaded his fingers through the nearest feathers, on the edge of Draco’s wing.
Draco gasped and arched towards him.
“I thought so,” Harry whispered, feeling less tired and a lot more-predatory than he’d thought he would. He sank to the floor and moved towards Draco, still touching his wing even when it spread into a nervous fan. “You’re as hard for me as I was for you. It’s not just one of us in control. It’s both of us affecting each other.”
“I-never said it wasn’t,” Draco said, and his voice seemed to catch on burrs in his throat as his body shook and arched some more.
“I thought maybe you might,” Harry whispered, and pulled Draco close to him with one hand behind his neck. “Now, kiss me, and maybe I’ll forget about some of the things that you’ve done to annoy me.”
Draco opened his mouth. It was probably to protest and say that mates shouldn’t tease each other this way.
Harry kissed him, and stole his breath and his tongue both into his own mouth. He ran a hand down Draco’s chest and wings until the one was heaving and the others quivering with emotion. Then he pushed him backwards.
Draco flapped to catch himself, but he still ended up on his arse with his wings extended behind his shoulders. His legs fell open, and Harry reached out and twisted one hand delicately over Draco’s groin.
It was enough.
Draco’s mouth fell open when he came, and so did his wings, giving one giant, spasmodic flap. He groaned a second later and rolled onto his stomach, panting in a light voice. Harry came over and rested one hand as light in the middle of his back.
“What’s got into you?” Draco muttered, without taking his hand away from his face or raising his head.
Harry nuzzled the back of his neck and didn’t respond. In truth, it was more Kingsley and the things he had accused Harry of than anything else. If he had to give up the Aurors for his mate, he would show everyone who mattered, including Draco, that that mate was his, and worth it.
“Harry? I want you to tell me.”
“To mark you as mine,” Harry murmured, because it was true and he knew it would please Draco. “And to show you that I don’t regret giving up the Aurors when I’ll get you as a prize in return.”
Draco laughed breathlessly and sat up, turning around to kiss him. The kiss became more involved than Harry’d expected, and they sprawled apart and had to breathe again for a long moment before Draco said, “I could have told you that I’m already yours.”
Harry just had to pull him in for another kiss then.
*
Harry snorted as he watched the fire flaring with bright blue sparks for a moment. He’d received yet another letter from one of the mad Healers, and thrown it into the flames immediately. He was glad, since the blue sparks meant there’d been a spell of some kind on it.
Maybe I should let Hermione have their names and do something to them the way she’s always begging me to, he thought idly, and turned his head to look at Draco, asleep in his bed. Neither of them had felt like parting after the conversation with Kingsley earlier. Draco lay on his stomach with his wings draped on either side of the bed like enormous feather dusters.
Harry had to snicker. He would be so offended if I told him that. Once I explained to him what a feather duster was.
Thoughts of the future had kept Harry up. It was all well and good to entertain fantasies of hunting criminals with Draco and declare that he wasn’t going back to the Aurors, but it would be much harder to convince those same Aurors if he had a bad relationship with them.
Someone knocked on the door.
Harry looked quickly at the clock on the wall. The hands pointed almost to midnight. Harry frowned and stood up. He supposed it could be one of the professors coming to ask why they’d missed so much class that day, but Testig and Grunnell and most of the rest would have announced themselves right away. This sounded more secretive.
He made his way to the door and cast a spell that would turn it as transparent as glass, but only for his eyes, effectively revealing who was on the other side of it.
On the other side stood that man, Kevin, who was the mate of the Veela who’d accosted them in Grunnell’s class. Harry blinked and banished the spell for a moment, standing and thinking, while Kevin knocked again.
Harry glanced over his shoulder with instinctive concern. No, the sound hadn’t woken Draco. Draco had turned his head a little away and burrowed his face into his arm, but he showed no sign of sitting up.
Mind made up, Harry tugged the door open. Kevin had seemed the reasonable one when they were talking to Lavaliere. Maybe he had come to discuss a truce.
Kevin started and spun around when the door opened, though, and Harry stifled a sigh. He only hoped that this didn’t turn into another tense confrontation.
“Where’s your mate?” Kevin was darting his eyes around.
“I could ask the same thing,” Harry said, and leaned on the doorway with a casual spread of his wing, so Kevin wouldn’t be able to look in at Draco. “She seems the sort who would be jealous about you spending time with anyone else.”
Kevin gave him a look of pure misery, and Harry sighed and relented. “All right. What?”
“Valena realizes now that she might have been a little hasty,” Kevin said, slowly, reluctantly. “It’s not your fault that you’re transformed Veela, and you do need to be here, or resist corrupting people with your power.”
Harry kept his opinion on the “corruption” aspect to himself. “Okay. And?”
“One of the traditional ways of calling for peace in Veela culture is sending a gift.” Kevin’s hand shook as he reached slowly into a pocket of his trousers, drawing out a wrapped package. “I was really supposed to give it to you with your mate there, so he could see she doesn’t mean it as a courting gift…”
“Since we’re both mated, I don’t think Draco would mind,” Harry said, with a roll of his eyes, and took the gift. Inside the silvery paper, there was something soft and heavy, more like sand than anything else. “I reckon you’re supposed to tell her how I receive it.”
“Um…”
“Don’t bother denying it.” Harry caught Kevin’s eye firmly. “But it’s sort of humiliating how she makes you into her owl, you know.”
Kevin bowed his head again. Harry shook his head as he opened the paper. He could only guess that Kevin felt about Lavaliere the way he did about Draco. Nothing else would make someone go through this kind of humiliation.
When Harry looked down, he saw the glittering white dust in the package, so bright it looked like diamond dust. He raised his eyebrows. “Is this some kind of cosmetic?” Probably, because that would allow Lavaliere to insult him at the same time.
“No. You use it like this.”
Kevin’s hand reached beneath Harry’s, and then shot upwards, pushing the dust into a flying cascade. Harry inhaled before he could stop himself, and felt his mind whirl and darken. He lost track of his legs, and then he was crashing to the floor.
He did hear Kevin murmur, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
For what that’s worth.
Then there was darkness everywhere, threaded all through his mind, and it smothered even the panic over not knowing where Draco was and what was happening to him.
Chapter Twenty-Eight.
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