Fic! You know you want to try it...
Inconveniently Convenient
By: shadowclub
Pairings: Eventual H/D
Notes: HBP complaint. The must-write, Draco is a veela story and Harry is his mate. Features a conflicted Harry and annoyedatlife!Draco. After an accident Draco finds himself between a rock and a very hard place.
Warnings: None yet
Beta: Katie
Rating: R
~~~~~~~~~~
“I’m very disappointed in you Lucius, you know how much I hate being disappointed.” Voldemort hissed out. Draco watched as his father inadvertantly flinched. It was pathetic really, but father had always said that they had to make sacrifices for their cause. Draco wondered if it was really worth their pride, after all if Voldemort treated them like this now, imagine how he might treat them when he ruled the Wizarding World.
In fact, Voldemort hated a lot of things, half-bloods, muggles, time, vultures, the color pink, rock and roll music, women…and a while myriad of things that Draco couldn’t even remember off the top of his head.
The meeting droned on and on, the location of various secret spots, and sinister plans were made. Why had he ever wanted to be a part of this ridiculous organization? He could have supported their ideals and still remained at Hogwarts…in his nice comfy bed and a full belly. Instead he was stuck out in the middle of the effing forest while the rain lightly drizzled down, not hard enough to soak them, but they were all uncomfortably damp. Draco sighed hatefully thinking: Potter probably has meetings in a warm room where they serve food and aren’t subject to cruciatus for wearing the wrong color socks.
Lost in his thoughts Draco didn’t notice the first sign of danger (screaming people) until it was too late. Already Voldemort had vanished, and the air was thick with flying curses. Draco looked around wildly for someone to give him instructions, not seeing anyone that was not in combat with Voldemort’s sworn enemies he quickly ducked behind and bush, tripped over a skunk and knocked his head against a tree branch.
He stumbled back up again only to find himself at the wrong end of a wand.
“Put your wand down and I don’t want to hex you,” came a mild voice. Lupin, only Lupin would speak so calmly during a battle. Draco felt his upper lip curl in disgust. How dare a werewolf give him orders? His hand shaking he dropped his wand.
“Good. Now step out here into the open, Mr. Malfoy.”
“You think you’re better than us? You think that just because you chose the winning side that it makes you a good person? Draco was trembling now. Where was his father?Where was Goyle? Where were his heroes?
The Order would kill him for what he did to at Hogwarts.
“Excuse me?” Lupin asked.
You’re a werewolf for Merlin’s sakes!” Draco continued trying to waste time. Lupin looked mildly angry now.
“Right.” Lupin waved his wand and Draco found himself bound with roped. Lupin grinned apologetically before shoving Draco’s wand into his pocket.
“I’m going to apparate you to our base camp,” Lupin said after a moment. Draco tensed.
This was it; the moment of judgment.
~~~~
The clock was ticking. It was one of those annoying tickings that kept you awake at night. Harry was about five seconds away from pulling his wand out and hexing the stupid thing.
“She cried, you know.”
“Who?”
“You know perfectly well who!” Hermione was flexing her fingers now, clearly itching to grab her wand and hex him.
“Um…oh her!” Harry pretended to know who she was talking about. Somehow it seemed better than asking her. Clearly, Hermione was not in a good mood.
“You have no idea.” Harry scratched the back of his neck.
“No…”
“Ginny! Are you daft!? Who else would it be?” Harry felt his face heating up. Ginny!
“Nothing happened,” Harry said. Why was Hermione yelling at him anyway?
“I think it would wise for you to go over and apologize.”
“For what? It was a complete misunderstanding. You know that!”
“I know Rita is a complete fraud but I also know that there are pictures of you kissing some blonde girl all over the newspaper.”
“It was taken out of context!”
“Really? Then what happened. The truth now, Harry. None of that shit you gave Remus.”
“It was nothing! Last week I had to go to Diagon Alley to erm, well shop for some personal items for the spell and Ron and I ran into this girl...”
~~~
Draco Malfoy was scowling. Not the typical white boy with blonde hair type of scowl, it was a true scowl that came deep from the heart.
“This is preposterous. I refuse to consort with these people. Prisoners have rights too!” he spouted out disdainfully. A tendril of fear had curled around his stomach and squeezed; he shifted his weight from one foot to the other. This vision was becoming hazy on the edges…Merlin, not Potter.
“It is just a temporary solution. Quite honestly, Mr. Malfoy, I don’t think you are in any position to bargain.”
“Kill me mercifully now; it’s more than Potter will do.”
“You won’t see Harry much.”
“Of course not, dead people don’t see very well! Fine then, let’s go. I just want you to know that if I die it will be on your head.” Remus sighed; somehow joining the Order had seemed very sleek and professional at the time. The reality was that he did a lot of babysitting and watching. Whatever happened to good old espionage?
Draco watched as two Aurors entered the room, one of them looked vaguely familiar, rather like his maternal grandmother only more…pink and alive looking.
“Please hand over your wand and stick out your hands, Mr. Malfoy,” the burly auror intoned. His voice was wonderfully deep and reverberated throughout Draco’s body.
No, don’t do it. You’ll be lost forever! Just think what your father would say!
This is your chance to save yourself. The line can’t continue if all the Malfoys are dead!
Lalalala! I want a cupcake!
Great, not only did he have his father and mother in his head, he apparently had a bipolar voice on the advice council.
“Mr. Malfoy, your hands please!” Draco shivered and wondered if the man was married; he probably made people come in their pants from talking to them. Did making someone come in their pants count as cheating?
What!? This was not the time for this!
Remus grabbed his wrists, his callused hands sliding over the sensitive forearm. Draco panicked and wrenched free pushing past the Aurors (barely escaping the grab of the pink one. Really! Had she even heard of a nail clipping charm?) The burly one caught him from behind, lifting him up in the air. He was reaching for his wand. Draco struggled and managed to get a good kick in the stomach. The burly man dropped him with a loud whoosh of air. He wrenched the door open and sent out a soundless Confundus Charm toward Remus.
He ran finally coming to a complete stop in the middle of a crowded street. Now to blend in. It was humid, beads of sweat dripped off his face. He looked around; at least he was in Diagon Alley so he could find a place to stay the night, then sneak away in the morning and take the Knight Bus somewhere...
Wait…this was bad. People were looking for him, and he was quite recognizable. He put his black hood up and walked toward Knockturn Alley. No one would question his status there.
Just as he was about to turn into the alley he heard-
“If I ever do get my hands on Malfoy, I think I just might kill him,” a voice came.
“I wouldn’t…there are worse things than death.” A bitter laugh.
“Cowards aren’t good enough for death.”
Shit, he would have recognized those voices anywhere, Potty and Weasel. Great, there wasn’t enough time to run down the alley; surely they would notice someone running. In a desperate attempt to save himself, Draco quickly put cast a hair growing charm. Baby fine blonde hair grew to his mid back and he quickly added a voice raising charm. Potty and Weasel probably couldn’t care less about him/her.
For the first time in his life Draco thanked the gods for his delicate features. Leaning up against the wall, he attempted to look casual. Pothead and Rondolt came into his view chatting, laughing at something.
“Hello!” Ron said cheerfully spotting Draco. Draco tossed his hair.
“Hello Sir, could you please spare some money for me? My child is starving and I can’t pay the rent. My husband is blind and recovering in St. Mungos!” It is genius, thought Draco. Not only would they leave him alone, but they would give him some much needed money for the night.
“What are you doing in this part of Diagon Alley?” Harry asked suspiciously.
“I need the money, dear Sir.” It wasn’t really a lie.
“Here, it’s all I have left,” Ron said handing him a few Knuts. Curse them for being so poor. The tips of Ron’s ears were beginning to turn a putrid cherry color. Dear Merlin! Ronald Weasley had a crush on him.
“Why thank you. Every little bit counts.” Draco was already congratulating himself on a job well done.
“You’ll have to excuse my friend here, we must get going. It is not safe to be out late in this area, why don’t we buy you some dinner at the Leaky for you and your child?” Accursed sheep of Serbia, clearly Pothead had come onto some intelligence and suspected something was not quite right.
“Err…I can’t! The little one’s at home!”
“Well you can order out.” Potter was watching him closely now, looking for a sign, a flaw. Draco began to sweat.
“What was your name, again?” Weasley’s voice cracked in the middle of the sentence. Embarrassed he cleared his throat and started over.
“It’s Diana. Alright then, I suppose a good meal couldn’t hurt.” It sounded so unnatural to his ears; humbleness did not suit Draco, and he suspected that this is what had set Potter’s internal alarm off.
Potter and Weasely were remarkably stupid, thought Draco, eating a hot greasy chip. Why did he want to be friends with Potter in first year? Thank god Potter rejected him, or else he might have been subject to this torture every day.
“…and then it turned out that both the bugs were dead and it was Fred and George playing a joke on me.” Draco smiled politely. This being humble and gracious act had been grating his nerves for quite some time now.
“What’s your last name?” Potter asked. His eyes were squinted suspiciously behind his large frames.
“Why? Thinking about writing me a check?” Draco laughed nervously, and suddenly all names flew out of his head.
“No, you remind me of someone I knew back in school.”
“Really?” Draco looked around for a distraction, anything that could change the subject.
“Well, I don’t give out my name to just anyone. They have to earn it,” Draco whispered, leaning in, his mouth moving over Potter’s ear. He couldn’t believe that he was actually pretending to seduce Potter! He could feel the Malfoy ancestors rolling in their graves. Crap, he’d have to boil his mouth along with all of his clothes now. A flash went off.
“What the--!”
A large bang interrupted his sentence. Screaming. A rush of adrenaline shot through Draco; he could feel the glamour wearing off.
“Get out!” Someone grabbed him and was leading him out of the back door into the alley way. Once outside, he ran toward Knockturn Alley. It was like the eye of the storm, he reasoned. It would be calm, and all around him would be chaos.
He ran into the Rusty Joint, a questionable business, but his name meant something there. True to his theory, all the occupants of the bar were oblivious to the chaos nearby.
“I need a room for the night,” he said to the barkeeper, a stout man with hair covering every inch of all visible body parts. The man’s resume probably consisted of arse-kissing and picking his nose. Finally, something was going his way.
“I ain’t gotta house the likes of you here, get the fuck outta my bar!” The man pointed with the piece of dirt that functioned as his washcloth.
“Do you know who I am? I have friends…” Draco snarled his voice low. How could they throw him out? This simply wasn’t right! He was a Malfoy! He grabbed the barkeeper’s wrist and pulled him forward.
“Do you understand?”
He didn’t notice them until it was too late. The two men sitting in the far end of the room had taken out their wands. Draco caught their movements in the corner of his eye and fumbled to pull out his own.
Too late. The curses hit him before he even had a chance to react. Pain seared though his skin cutting straight to his heart. For an agonizing moment he was suspended in the air before falling to the ground in pain. Every muscle in his body contracted at the same time. Blood spilled out his body, and he felt it drenching his robe. His arm flew up to his chest only to mind sections of it curiously missing.
The smell of death and gore filled his nostrils and then all went black.
~~~
“…by the time we found him, the curse had already eaten through most of his skin and was almost to his lungs. We managed to put a freezing curse on him, and then the healers can tell you the rest.” It was that voice again, Draco shifted uncomfortably fast out of sleep and into reality.
The first thing he noticed was the smell…the sweet smell of pudding-
Wait. He hated pudding. He attempted to move his arm and found he was bound to the bed by a deceptively soft rope. He could almost see the ad, “All the fun and no pain bondage!”
“Oh good, you’re awake,” a nurse came into the room, gently shooing the Aurors out. Her starched white uniform was blindingly white. Perhaps this was heaven?
“Obviously! I demand that you untie these at once!” The nurse ignored him and after a complex series of wand motions and several pages of questions (No, he had not had sex with monkeys in Africa). She allowed the Aurors back in.
“What happened?” he asked for what seemed to be the millionth time.
No one answered. Fine, he could play their little game; surely they would have questions for him too. The silence stretched on, Draco could feel his eye begin to twitch. He attempted to jerk his arm up so that he could rub it only to find the rope was not giving.
“I like your robes, is it Magicka?” Draco asked forcing a smile on his face.
No response.
Eventually a Healer came in and began checking all his-well whatever they were checking.
“Mr. Malfoy, how do you feel today?”
“Horrible,” he replied.
“I’m afraid we’re not quite done with you yet. We have to see how your body reacts with the genes activated.” The Healer smiled sympathetically. By gods! He was still alive wasn’t he, was he going to die? No! He was too young and pretty to die. He hadn’t even lost his virginity yet…well he’d lost some of it, but not all of it. Oral didn’t really count.
Jeans? Why were they worrying about trousers at a time like this? What was wrong with him? Did he lose his trousers?
“I demand a recount!” He exclaimed. Somehow the sentence didn’t quite match the thought process. The Healer bustled around him uncorking bottles and placing them on a tray.
“Drink up.”
“No.”
“You will drink this potion or else I will-.” The Healer’s smile was fading. Draco grinned.
“Not until you tell me what happened.”
“Oh! Well the Aurors brought you in here after you were hit with a Wilting curse. They managed to freeze your body so that the curse would slow down….” The Wilting curse… not only was it dark but cruel as well. His father had described the effects of the body, it would literally be turned inside out. Horrifically messy and blood stains were a pain to remove from the wood floor, his father had said. He should have been dead, as there was no counter curse.
“…but we found that you had a recessive Veela gene in you body. It was dormant so we activated it using the Regenerating Potion. Since Veelas are more immune to curses, like giants, it immediately began to counteract the effects.”
“Wha--?” What was she saying? What in tarnation was going on?
“Essentially, by activating the gene, we saved your life. Fascinating stuff, I’m publishing an article about it in MedWizards Journal…”
“Wait, you made me a Veela!” Draco’s voice was cracking now. He sounded like a twelve year old on helium. No, this was not happening.
“Well, we’re not entirely sure how the Veela gene will affect your body, but it saved your life.”
“I don’t care! You had no right! You had-!” He gasped for air. His insides seemed to be twisting and twitching. A hand gently pushed him back on the bed.
“Calm down, Mr. Malfoy, you will likely be able to live a relatively normal life. So far, very few characteristics have manifested and we don’t expect there to be any more problems. Your body is still quite weak, and I trust you will drink the potions and get some sleep. Do you understand?” The Healer was all business.
“Yes,” Draco vaguely mumbled as a nurse came in and helped him down the potions. The dark closed in, and he fell into exhausted dreamless sleep.
~~~
“…the Aurors arrested those we caught and then we came home,” Harry finished an hour later.
“Did you even think of Ginny’s feelings?” Hermione asked.
“She’s too young,” Harry said looking away.
“That’s not the point.”
“I know Hermione. We’re only here until the wedding anyway. After that…bugger. I don’t know,” Harry said leaning back closing his eyes. The locket weighed heavily in his pocket as he fell asleep.
~~~
By: shadowclub
Pairings: Eventual H/D
Notes: HBP complaint. The must-write, Draco is a veela story and Harry is his mate. Features a conflicted Harry and annoyedatlife!Draco. After an accident Draco finds himself between a rock and a very hard place.
Warnings: None yet
Beta: Katie
Rating: R
~~~~~~~~~~
“I’m very disappointed in you Lucius, you know how much I hate being disappointed.” Voldemort hissed out. Draco watched as his father inadvertantly flinched. It was pathetic really, but father had always said that they had to make sacrifices for their cause. Draco wondered if it was really worth their pride, after all if Voldemort treated them like this now, imagine how he might treat them when he ruled the Wizarding World.
In fact, Voldemort hated a lot of things, half-bloods, muggles, time, vultures, the color pink, rock and roll music, women…and a while myriad of things that Draco couldn’t even remember off the top of his head.
The meeting droned on and on, the location of various secret spots, and sinister plans were made. Why had he ever wanted to be a part of this ridiculous organization? He could have supported their ideals and still remained at Hogwarts…in his nice comfy bed and a full belly. Instead he was stuck out in the middle of the effing forest while the rain lightly drizzled down, not hard enough to soak them, but they were all uncomfortably damp. Draco sighed hatefully thinking: Potter probably has meetings in a warm room where they serve food and aren’t subject to cruciatus for wearing the wrong color socks.
Lost in his thoughts Draco didn’t notice the first sign of danger (screaming people) until it was too late. Already Voldemort had vanished, and the air was thick with flying curses. Draco looked around wildly for someone to give him instructions, not seeing anyone that was not in combat with Voldemort’s sworn enemies he quickly ducked behind and bush, tripped over a skunk and knocked his head against a tree branch.
He stumbled back up again only to find himself at the wrong end of a wand.
“Put your wand down and I don’t want to hex you,” came a mild voice. Lupin, only Lupin would speak so calmly during a battle. Draco felt his upper lip curl in disgust. How dare a werewolf give him orders? His hand shaking he dropped his wand.
“Good. Now step out here into the open, Mr. Malfoy.”
“You think you’re better than us? You think that just because you chose the winning side that it makes you a good person? Draco was trembling now. Where was his father?Where was Goyle? Where were his heroes?
The Order would kill him for what he did to at Hogwarts.
“Excuse me?” Lupin asked.
You’re a werewolf for Merlin’s sakes!” Draco continued trying to waste time. Lupin looked mildly angry now.
“Right.” Lupin waved his wand and Draco found himself bound with roped. Lupin grinned apologetically before shoving Draco’s wand into his pocket.
“I’m going to apparate you to our base camp,” Lupin said after a moment. Draco tensed.
This was it; the moment of judgment.
~~~~
The clock was ticking. It was one of those annoying tickings that kept you awake at night. Harry was about five seconds away from pulling his wand out and hexing the stupid thing.
“She cried, you know.”
“Who?”
“You know perfectly well who!” Hermione was flexing her fingers now, clearly itching to grab her wand and hex him.
“Um…oh her!” Harry pretended to know who she was talking about. Somehow it seemed better than asking her. Clearly, Hermione was not in a good mood.
“You have no idea.” Harry scratched the back of his neck.
“No…”
“Ginny! Are you daft!? Who else would it be?” Harry felt his face heating up. Ginny!
“Nothing happened,” Harry said. Why was Hermione yelling at him anyway?
“I think it would wise for you to go over and apologize.”
“For what? It was a complete misunderstanding. You know that!”
“I know Rita is a complete fraud but I also know that there are pictures of you kissing some blonde girl all over the newspaper.”
“It was taken out of context!”
“Really? Then what happened. The truth now, Harry. None of that shit you gave Remus.”
“It was nothing! Last week I had to go to Diagon Alley to erm, well shop for some personal items for the spell and Ron and I ran into this girl...”
~~~
Draco Malfoy was scowling. Not the typical white boy with blonde hair type of scowl, it was a true scowl that came deep from the heart.
“This is preposterous. I refuse to consort with these people. Prisoners have rights too!” he spouted out disdainfully. A tendril of fear had curled around his stomach and squeezed; he shifted his weight from one foot to the other. This vision was becoming hazy on the edges…Merlin, not Potter.
“It is just a temporary solution. Quite honestly, Mr. Malfoy, I don’t think you are in any position to bargain.”
“Kill me mercifully now; it’s more than Potter will do.”
“You won’t see Harry much.”
“Of course not, dead people don’t see very well! Fine then, let’s go. I just want you to know that if I die it will be on your head.” Remus sighed; somehow joining the Order had seemed very sleek and professional at the time. The reality was that he did a lot of babysitting and watching. Whatever happened to good old espionage?
Draco watched as two Aurors entered the room, one of them looked vaguely familiar, rather like his maternal grandmother only more…pink and alive looking.
“Please hand over your wand and stick out your hands, Mr. Malfoy,” the burly auror intoned. His voice was wonderfully deep and reverberated throughout Draco’s body.
No, don’t do it. You’ll be lost forever! Just think what your father would say!
This is your chance to save yourself. The line can’t continue if all the Malfoys are dead!
Lalalala! I want a cupcake!
Great, not only did he have his father and mother in his head, he apparently had a bipolar voice on the advice council.
“Mr. Malfoy, your hands please!” Draco shivered and wondered if the man was married; he probably made people come in their pants from talking to them. Did making someone come in their pants count as cheating?
What!? This was not the time for this!
Remus grabbed his wrists, his callused hands sliding over the sensitive forearm. Draco panicked and wrenched free pushing past the Aurors (barely escaping the grab of the pink one. Really! Had she even heard of a nail clipping charm?) The burly one caught him from behind, lifting him up in the air. He was reaching for his wand. Draco struggled and managed to get a good kick in the stomach. The burly man dropped him with a loud whoosh of air. He wrenched the door open and sent out a soundless Confundus Charm toward Remus.
He ran finally coming to a complete stop in the middle of a crowded street. Now to blend in. It was humid, beads of sweat dripped off his face. He looked around; at least he was in Diagon Alley so he could find a place to stay the night, then sneak away in the morning and take the Knight Bus somewhere...
Wait…this was bad. People were looking for him, and he was quite recognizable. He put his black hood up and walked toward Knockturn Alley. No one would question his status there.
Just as he was about to turn into the alley he heard-
“If I ever do get my hands on Malfoy, I think I just might kill him,” a voice came.
“I wouldn’t…there are worse things than death.” A bitter laugh.
“Cowards aren’t good enough for death.”
Shit, he would have recognized those voices anywhere, Potty and Weasel. Great, there wasn’t enough time to run down the alley; surely they would notice someone running. In a desperate attempt to save himself, Draco quickly put cast a hair growing charm. Baby fine blonde hair grew to his mid back and he quickly added a voice raising charm. Potty and Weasel probably couldn’t care less about him/her.
For the first time in his life Draco thanked the gods for his delicate features. Leaning up against the wall, he attempted to look casual. Pothead and Rondolt came into his view chatting, laughing at something.
“Hello!” Ron said cheerfully spotting Draco. Draco tossed his hair.
“Hello Sir, could you please spare some money for me? My child is starving and I can’t pay the rent. My husband is blind and recovering in St. Mungos!” It is genius, thought Draco. Not only would they leave him alone, but they would give him some much needed money for the night.
“What are you doing in this part of Diagon Alley?” Harry asked suspiciously.
“I need the money, dear Sir.” It wasn’t really a lie.
“Here, it’s all I have left,” Ron said handing him a few Knuts. Curse them for being so poor. The tips of Ron’s ears were beginning to turn a putrid cherry color. Dear Merlin! Ronald Weasley had a crush on him.
“Why thank you. Every little bit counts.” Draco was already congratulating himself on a job well done.
“You’ll have to excuse my friend here, we must get going. It is not safe to be out late in this area, why don’t we buy you some dinner at the Leaky for you and your child?” Accursed sheep of Serbia, clearly Pothead had come onto some intelligence and suspected something was not quite right.
“Err…I can’t! The little one’s at home!”
“Well you can order out.” Potter was watching him closely now, looking for a sign, a flaw. Draco began to sweat.
“What was your name, again?” Weasley’s voice cracked in the middle of the sentence. Embarrassed he cleared his throat and started over.
“It’s Diana. Alright then, I suppose a good meal couldn’t hurt.” It sounded so unnatural to his ears; humbleness did not suit Draco, and he suspected that this is what had set Potter’s internal alarm off.
Potter and Weasely were remarkably stupid, thought Draco, eating a hot greasy chip. Why did he want to be friends with Potter in first year? Thank god Potter rejected him, or else he might have been subject to this torture every day.
“…and then it turned out that both the bugs were dead and it was Fred and George playing a joke on me.” Draco smiled politely. This being humble and gracious act had been grating his nerves for quite some time now.
“What’s your last name?” Potter asked. His eyes were squinted suspiciously behind his large frames.
“Why? Thinking about writing me a check?” Draco laughed nervously, and suddenly all names flew out of his head.
“No, you remind me of someone I knew back in school.”
“Really?” Draco looked around for a distraction, anything that could change the subject.
“Well, I don’t give out my name to just anyone. They have to earn it,” Draco whispered, leaning in, his mouth moving over Potter’s ear. He couldn’t believe that he was actually pretending to seduce Potter! He could feel the Malfoy ancestors rolling in their graves. Crap, he’d have to boil his mouth along with all of his clothes now. A flash went off.
“What the--!”
A large bang interrupted his sentence. Screaming. A rush of adrenaline shot through Draco; he could feel the glamour wearing off.
“Get out!” Someone grabbed him and was leading him out of the back door into the alley way. Once outside, he ran toward Knockturn Alley. It was like the eye of the storm, he reasoned. It would be calm, and all around him would be chaos.
He ran into the Rusty Joint, a questionable business, but his name meant something there. True to his theory, all the occupants of the bar were oblivious to the chaos nearby.
“I need a room for the night,” he said to the barkeeper, a stout man with hair covering every inch of all visible body parts. The man’s resume probably consisted of arse-kissing and picking his nose. Finally, something was going his way.
“I ain’t gotta house the likes of you here, get the fuck outta my bar!” The man pointed with the piece of dirt that functioned as his washcloth.
“Do you know who I am? I have friends…” Draco snarled his voice low. How could they throw him out? This simply wasn’t right! He was a Malfoy! He grabbed the barkeeper’s wrist and pulled him forward.
“Do you understand?”
He didn’t notice them until it was too late. The two men sitting in the far end of the room had taken out their wands. Draco caught their movements in the corner of his eye and fumbled to pull out his own.
Too late. The curses hit him before he even had a chance to react. Pain seared though his skin cutting straight to his heart. For an agonizing moment he was suspended in the air before falling to the ground in pain. Every muscle in his body contracted at the same time. Blood spilled out his body, and he felt it drenching his robe. His arm flew up to his chest only to mind sections of it curiously missing.
The smell of death and gore filled his nostrils and then all went black.
~~~
“…by the time we found him, the curse had already eaten through most of his skin and was almost to his lungs. We managed to put a freezing curse on him, and then the healers can tell you the rest.” It was that voice again, Draco shifted uncomfortably fast out of sleep and into reality.
The first thing he noticed was the smell…the sweet smell of pudding-
Wait. He hated pudding. He attempted to move his arm and found he was bound to the bed by a deceptively soft rope. He could almost see the ad, “All the fun and no pain bondage!”
“Oh good, you’re awake,” a nurse came into the room, gently shooing the Aurors out. Her starched white uniform was blindingly white. Perhaps this was heaven?
“Obviously! I demand that you untie these at once!” The nurse ignored him and after a complex series of wand motions and several pages of questions (No, he had not had sex with monkeys in Africa). She allowed the Aurors back in.
“What happened?” he asked for what seemed to be the millionth time.
No one answered. Fine, he could play their little game; surely they would have questions for him too. The silence stretched on, Draco could feel his eye begin to twitch. He attempted to jerk his arm up so that he could rub it only to find the rope was not giving.
“I like your robes, is it Magicka?” Draco asked forcing a smile on his face.
No response.
Eventually a Healer came in and began checking all his-well whatever they were checking.
“Mr. Malfoy, how do you feel today?”
“Horrible,” he replied.
“I’m afraid we’re not quite done with you yet. We have to see how your body reacts with the genes activated.” The Healer smiled sympathetically. By gods! He was still alive wasn’t he, was he going to die? No! He was too young and pretty to die. He hadn’t even lost his virginity yet…well he’d lost some of it, but not all of it. Oral didn’t really count.
Jeans? Why were they worrying about trousers at a time like this? What was wrong with him? Did he lose his trousers?
“I demand a recount!” He exclaimed. Somehow the sentence didn’t quite match the thought process. The Healer bustled around him uncorking bottles and placing them on a tray.
“Drink up.”
“No.”
“You will drink this potion or else I will-.” The Healer’s smile was fading. Draco grinned.
“Not until you tell me what happened.”
“Oh! Well the Aurors brought you in here after you were hit with a Wilting curse. They managed to freeze your body so that the curse would slow down….” The Wilting curse… not only was it dark but cruel as well. His father had described the effects of the body, it would literally be turned inside out. Horrifically messy and blood stains were a pain to remove from the wood floor, his father had said. He should have been dead, as there was no counter curse.
“…but we found that you had a recessive Veela gene in you body. It was dormant so we activated it using the Regenerating Potion. Since Veelas are more immune to curses, like giants, it immediately began to counteract the effects.”
“Wha--?” What was she saying? What in tarnation was going on?
“Essentially, by activating the gene, we saved your life. Fascinating stuff, I’m publishing an article about it in MedWizards Journal…”
“Wait, you made me a Veela!” Draco’s voice was cracking now. He sounded like a twelve year old on helium. No, this was not happening.
“Well, we’re not entirely sure how the Veela gene will affect your body, but it saved your life.”
“I don’t care! You had no right! You had-!” He gasped for air. His insides seemed to be twisting and twitching. A hand gently pushed him back on the bed.
“Calm down, Mr. Malfoy, you will likely be able to live a relatively normal life. So far, very few characteristics have manifested and we don’t expect there to be any more problems. Your body is still quite weak, and I trust you will drink the potions and get some sleep. Do you understand?” The Healer was all business.
“Yes,” Draco vaguely mumbled as a nurse came in and helped him down the potions. The dark closed in, and he fell into exhausted dreamless sleep.
~~~
“…the Aurors arrested those we caught and then we came home,” Harry finished an hour later.
“Did you even think of Ginny’s feelings?” Hermione asked.
“She’s too young,” Harry said looking away.
“That’s not the point.”
“I know Hermione. We’re only here until the wedding anyway. After that…bugger. I don’t know,” Harry said leaning back closing his eyes. The locket weighed heavily in his pocket as he fell asleep.
~~~