Fic: Honesty Is the Best Policy (1 of 2), Harry/Draco, NC17/18
This was written for skarch86 in the hpvalensmut exchange. The reveal happened while I was a way, but luckily someone reminded me about the whole exchange :).
Title: Honesty Is the Best Policy (1 of 2)
Word Count: ~12800
Rating: NC17/18
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Warnings: explicit sex
Summary: Draco has family heritage to deal with and an obsession who is completely immune to his advances. He's about ready to try anything, even honesty.(Harry/Draco)
Notes: Thanks to my beta for sorting out my hideous grammar, anything left is entirely my fault :). To my giftee, I hope you like it.
Link: Other Fic
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Harry Potter might have been the Wizarding world's greatest hero and was described by many as brave, handsome, powerful and clever, but the word Draco would have chosen was 'oblivious'. Once upon a time Draco studied Potter to figure out his rival's weaknesses, these days if truth be told he did it for the same ends, but entirely different reasons. Post war Wizarding Britain was a happy place, mostly, and there were perks to being a war hero.
Having organised the defection of every Dark Lord supporter from his year in Hogwarts to the Light and then spilling everything he knew about the Death Eaters, Draco had been, somewhat reluctantly by some, accepted into the ranks of the good guys. Once he had been dragged to the Dark Lord by Snape he had been surprised to be able to move his mother to safety and he had made a very definite decision that his life would be longer if he changed sides. It had not taken much to convince his brethren of the same thing once Potter had made a reappearance after that summer.
That had been three years ago now and Draco was still viewed by some as a dark wizard. He did still have the tattoo on his left arm that marked him as a Death Eater, but he had also been beside Potter on the battle field at the end. He wasn't sure why Potter had decided to trust him in the beginning, but trust him he had and hence his name was among those honoured rather than reviled by the Wizarding world. Sometimes he still couldn't quite believe where life had led him.
Being veterans it had been decided that once Hogwarts reopened the surviving sixth years as had been would not return to the school for their N.E.W.T.s. Instead evening classes had been set up for all those who wished to finish their education, which meant that Draco had to give up his weekday evenings, but it also meant that he had a chance for regular contact with his current obsession.
Potter was doing something at the Ministry these days, but Draco had no idea what it was. No one seemed to know what Potter did except his closest friends, but Potter turned up to the lessons just like everyone else. Draco was busy trying to rebuild the Malfoy name to what it had been before his father's downfall, but he had decided that having his N.E.W.T.s was important in that as well. Not having his N.E.W.T.s closed a surprising number of doors and so he was studying as hard as he could even though it interfered with everything else he was trying to do.
It didn't help that once the final battle had come and gone he had run slap bang into a family secret he'd had no idea about before. It turned out there was magical creature blood in his family; so much for the pureblood rhetoric. It had started just after he had moved back to the manor with his mother. He'd woken up one morning feeling a little peculiar and when he'd looked in the mirror that day he'd been rather shocked.
Pretending that he wasn't good looking was not in his nature; he had matured nicely and had been the spitting image of his father at his age. However, that morning he had looked at himself and seen a face that was not quite his own; he had still looked like himself, but slightly more feminine, giving him a more androgynous look. That had been the first hint that all was not quite normal and he'd had himself checked out for every spell and hex known to wizardkind, but nothing had shown up.
A little change in wardrobe and hairstyle had distracted from the changes quite well so no one suspected much, but the second shock had been when he had caught himself admiring other wizards. Up until that point Draco had never remotely considered that he might appreciate the male of the species, but after a couple of days he had come to terms with the fact that he did now. With a little more research he had dug into the family vaults and found an interesting diary. It seemed that the Malfoy family was blessed with Veela blood quite a few generations back and it was only a dubious spell cast by an ancestor that meant they bred male at all. The spell it seemed had not eliminated all Veela traits when it came to some individuals and the diary had belonged to one such individual.
Draco had been glad to discover he was not going to suddenly become a real woman, but that his interest in the same sex as well as the opposite sex was very real. He also had a mild form of the Veela allure which had taken some practice, but of which he now had control. He didn't use it often because since he had met the reality of war he really had no taste for drooling, simpering cronies.
"Going to blow us up again next week, Potter?" he asked as they walked out of their Defence Against Dark Arts classroom.
Remus Lupin had them firing defensive and offensive spells at the moment that most of them knew backwards from the war, but for which they lacked finesse that the N.E.W.T. examiners would be looking for. Harry Potter had appeared from the summer after Dumbledore had died with a power level that, had it been in anyone else, might have been scary. No one, not even Potter's closest friends seemed to know what had happened to Potter over that summer, but it had given the Gryffindor hero spectacular magic. When Potter had cast a Diffindo that evening, his target had exploded, giving everyone else a good laugh.
"If you ask nicely I might," Potter shot back, relatively cheerful as usual.
Draco had become used to a focused, serious Potter over the course of the war, but the boy-man had changed almost as soon as the Dark Lord had died. It had been like watching day dawn on a dark night as Potter had stood on the battle field bloodied and bruised and realised that the Dark Lord had fallen to his wand and was finally dead. For a while Draco had been concerned that the Chosen one had stepped off the edge of reality, but Potter was doing a good impression of sane even if the Gryffindor wasn't.
It was Friday night and their lessons ended at nine; on the first week, Seamus Finnegan had suggested anyone who wanted to should go out for a drink. Over the months they had been doing this, a pattern had emerged and there were a handful of them who headed into Wizarding London once they were finished on a Friday. They were going to Libera, a Wizarding club that catered to Muggles as well, for this evening's entertainment. Draco made it a habit to go every week and keep the connections with those he had become friends with during the war; it was fun and politically sound.
It helped to be able to study his obsession in a social situation as well, which was how he had come to the conclusion that Potter was oblivious. Every Friday he watched Potter slide in a booth or stand at the bar having a drink while everyone else danced. It was clear that many people, male and female wanted Potter, but Potter always refused any advances politely, seemingly embarrassed than anyone had asked him. Draco had come to the conclusion that Potter thought people only asked him to dance or more because of who he was and Draco knew that wasn't true.
As they walked to Hogsmeade so they could apparate to London, Draco watched Potter talking and laughing with his closest friends. There was still a lot about Potter that was a mystery even though he'd been studying the Golden Boy for months now, but he had figured out that his friends were the most important thing to Potter. To the casual observer Potter might seem like a very simple person, but Draco was anything but casual about what he was doing and Potter was far more complicated than at first glance.
Something else came with the Veela blood other than the allure, something that had taken Draco a while to recognise. Veela of past history had a mating season where they sought out a human male to act as a sperm donor and then held on to him for a few years until their daughter no longer required looking after. Veela mating cycles were between five and seven years long, but it was not unknown for one Veela to have several men and several children at the same time. These days Veela tended to marry into Wizarding populations, or kidnap the odd Muggle occasionally rather than using the techniques of their past history, but it was still well known that when a Veela set her sights there was little that could change her mind.
The mating drive was present in the Malfoy line, just like the allure for the few whose blood was active, and it translated into an insistent desire to find a partner. It only kicked in when conditions were perfect for bringing up a family according to the diary which was why Draco had had no clue about his heritage until after the war. It was also why he had started to look at the male of the species; the spell on his line had translated his genes into male, but not the instincts. When he had started to go back to Hogwarts for the evening classes, he had discovered his perfect mate, well as far as his hormones were concerned anyway, and Potter was it; hence his rather obsessive behaviour.
It wasn't that he was being compelled to jump Potter as soon as the opportunity arose, but he was very interested and no one else seemed to attract him much since he had begun to fixate. Their world had been dealing with same sex unions for generations; they weren't common, but there were measures in place to make sure pureblood lines didn't die out if such unions occurred so he wasn't overly worried that his choice was male. What did worry him was that Potter never gave any indication if he was open to such things because, well basically Potter didn't give off any signals at all.
He found himself watching Potter's arse a little too closely as they walked and shook himself; it would not do for someone else to notice his fixation until he knew what he was going to do. What had been more of an acquaintance over the war had become a friendship since they had started the evenings out, but Draco still felt that he really didn't know the real Potter. At least once they reached the club he would be able to ogle Potter without anyone paying too much attention.
"So we'll meet at the club in half an hour?" Potter asked as they walked outside Hogwarts' boundaries.
"That's the plan, Oh Glorious Leader," Seamus joked and Draco noticed the way Potter's smile tightened just slightly at the playful salutation.
It was all too clear to anybody that looked that Potter was very insecure under the whole Gryffindor exterior and Draco found that he was not as happy about that as he once would have been. The Veela instincts were really rather ridiculous; he wanted to protect the most powerful wizard on the planet, even from himself.
"See you there," he said and with a wave apparated home.
He usually tried to go out on a quip of some description, but he was thinking far too hard about his object of affection to be sure he wouldn't say anything stupid. Walking up the stairs from the entrance hall of the manor he headed for his room to bathe and change.
"Draco," his mother said, appearing at the top of the stairs, "are you going out again?"
"We're headed for a club this evening," he said walking towards her instead, "but I'd be happy to drop you somewhere first if you would like."
His mother had not been prosecuted as a Death Eater, but it was clear she had done some things that were not completely forgivable given her adult status and had hence been penalised. Narcissa had had her apparition licence revoked for five years and been fined heavily, both of which meant she could not travel as freely as she once had.
"Thank you, darling," she said with a smile, obviously appreciating the gesture, "but I was planning on staying in tonight anyway. I have a visitor arriving later and I was just going to warn you if you were staying in."
Draco nodded, but did not comment. Since his father had been killed in a bungled Death Eater raid after his escape from Azkaban, his mother had been in mourning, but after the war ended she had acquired a lover. She had been quite honest about it and Draco had known from the start, but they did not speak of it directly in respect for his father's memory. The visitor reference was their private code for the issue.
"I probably won't be back until very late," he said, as his mind flicked back to his own problem.
"Then I shall kiss you goodnight now," Narcissa said and stepped forward to peck him on the cheek.
He smiled at that; no one who saw them outside the house would probably believe how affectionate his mother really was.
"Mum," he said before he could turn away and change his mind, "you know the whole Veela thing?"
She nodded.
"There's something I didn't tell you," he admitted.
His mother had been the first person he had gone to when he had seen the changes in himself, but he hadn't shared with her everything he had found out.
"It's not just the allure," he said quickly, not wanting to lose his nerve; "I have the mating drive too. I seem to have fixated on Harry Potter."
There was shock on his mother's features for a moment, but surprisingly she smiled rather fondly after a moment.
"Oh, Draco," she said, reaching out and cupping his face with her hand, "you have been agonising over this haven't you?"
He nodded, after all it was true.
"You've always had good taste," his mother told him, "and Mr Potter would be your perfect match. I assume you are going to approach him tonight."
Draco's thought processes hadn't reached that far, but, when his mother said it, he realised that was what his subconscious was suggesting. He nodded as he made his decision.
"I wish you luck, my darling son, and I thoroughly approve," Narcissa said and gave him another peck on the cheek. "Bring him to breakfast tomorrow if you can entice him home, I would love to meet him properly."
And with that his mother turned and walked back towards her suite of rooms while Draco just stood there. Maybe his mother was more forward thinking than he had ever given her credit for.
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Draco arrived at the club wearing black from head to foot. He knew he looked stunning and he had styled his hair to play off the androgynous look he had now. Since he was going after his man he didn't want to look too masculine; if Potter really was as innocent as he expected he definitely didn't want to frighten him away. The others were already in a booth since he had taken a little longer than half an hour to get ready and he waved as he walked towards them. Finnegan at least gave him an appreciative up and down, but then everyone knew Seamus would shag anything with a pulse.
Potter gave him a warm smile, but didn't so much as blink as he sat down next to the Gryffindor in the only available seat left.
"You should wear black more often, Draco," Hermione said cheerfully from where she was sitting on the other side of the table, "you look stunning this evening."
Weasley began turning red around the edges at his wife's comments and the last thing Draco wanted was an explosion this early in the evening.
"Why thank you, Mrs Granger-Weasley, it's always lovely to receive compliments from beautiful women, even if they are spoken for," he said in his most charming voice.
That worked well since Weasley didn't seem to know how to react to his wife being complimented in such a manner. Draco turned on the allure just a little as well and saw it relax everyone, well everyone except Potter. Why his fixation had to be immune to his one advantage was something he would have liked to discus with the universe, but he was sure fate was laughing far too hard to pay attention.
"So who needs another?" he asked and looked around the table to see what everyone was drinking.
At least he could distract himself until he had a chance to be alone with Potter, which came faster than he expected when he returned from the bar. Potter was sitting alone in their booth and glancing over at the dance floor he could see where everyone else was. The beat was fast and it was some Muggle tune, but magical folk and Muggles alike seemed to be enjoying it. On any other night Draco would have made his way onto the dance floor as well, but he wasn't going to unless he could take Potter with him this time.
"Been abandoned?" he asked, slipping back into his seat and leaving the tray of drinks in the middle of the table.
"As always," Potter replied with a slight smile, "given my two left feet."
"No one has two left feet," Draco said, leaning back and taking a sip of his drink; "people who think they have just haven't found a reason to dance yet."
Potter laughed at that.
"You've really never seen me dance then, well except at the Yule ball," Potter said; "I suck."
"Promise?" Draco said and raised one eyebrow before he thought about what he was saying.
The way Potter blushed was really very endearing.
"Wouldn't you like to know," Potter tried to joke back, but it was obvious that he was embarrassed.
Draco felt a lump form in his throat as he realised his opening was right in front of him not twenty minutes into the evening.
"Actually I wouldn't mind finding out," he said, letting the humour fade from his voice.
He had had plans within plans whirling around in his head as he showered and changed and now they were all in a pile around his feet. It seemed that Gryffindorishness was catching. For a few seconds Potter just looked at him.
"I'm flattered," were not the words he was really expecting, "but I'm not really into one night stands."
It took a while for Draco's brain to process that and he could see the insecurity in his target raising its ugly head again. How someone so powerful and so perfect could be so unsure of himself was beyond Draco, although given his hormonal state he realised his outlook could be a little biased.
"Who said anything about a one night stand?" he said eventually since there was no point in beating around the bush.
Potter looked a little surprised at that.
"Look, Po...Harry," he said, mentally relabelling his obsession as he made his play, "I don't know what you may have heard about me, but no matter what my image may be, I'm not a player, well not anymore anyway."
"I hadn't heard anything actually," Harry replied after a moment, "but why would you want anything more from me?"
Draco looked very hard at Harry then and came to the conclusion that Harry's insecurities ran even deeper than he had expected.
"You mean because I don't need your money and I don't need the prestige of an Order of Merlin first class because you made them give me one of those too?" he asked bluntly.
It was clear that subtle would not work in the current situation and Harry looked rather uncomfortable with the question.
"Harry, believe it or not, I'm interested in you for you, nothing that might come with your name," Draco revealed as straightforwardly as he knew how. "I've known you for a very long time, remember?"
"So have a lot of other people," Harry pointed out.
"I've watched you reject person after person for months," Draco said, leaning forward so that Harry knew he was serious; "you seriously undervalue yourself you know."
Harry looked away and Draco didn't like the way his friend and current lust object seemed to not believe him.
"People have only ever wanted me because of my name," Harry said in a tone that was only just about audible above the music of the club.
"Possibly," Draco replied because he was not about to dig into that whole minefield, "but I promise I have no interest in your name, more your arse and what's hidden under that ugly shirt."
One of the things Draco was going to have to do if he and Harry were going to have a future was take his obsession shopping; Harry really had horrible taste in clothes. It was as if Harry had never had a chance to choose clothes and so just went for the first thing he found.
Harry was going a lovely pink colour again, but the bashful Gryffindor did turn back.
"Why?" Harry asked and it was clear it was a genuine question.
"Because you may have terrible taste in clothes," Draco said honestly, "but underneath you're gorgeous and so incredibly innocent that people would kill to attract you."
He knew he was being mushier than he normally would have been, but Harry seemed to bring that out in him. His inner Veela was purring in appreciation of every advance he made towards Harry. The way Harry looked down at himself and frowned was not settling, but so far Harry wasn't running away.
"I do not have terrible taste in clothes," Harry protested and Draco felt like hitting his head on the table.
"Yes you do," he said very definitely, "trust me on that one. We are going to have to educate you on that at some point no matter what, but that really wasn't my point. I have very good reasons for being interested in you that have nothing to do with who you are or what you may have done."
Harry still didn't look convinced. For the first time Draco considered the fact that Harry might actually be incapable of believing him.
"Harry," Draco said after a few moments, "I'm going to tell you something, something that is possibly the biggest secret my family have, but I think you need to know."
At least Harry looked surprised about that.
"I have impeccable taste," Draco said, trying to make light of what he was about to say, "but I also have other instincts to back it up."
Literally no one outside of his family had any idea about his heritage and the Slytherin part of him didn't want to mention it now, but the Veela was urging him to do everything that was necessary and honesty was definitely important to Harry. He was completely torn, but if there was one thing he knew without a doubt was that he trusted Harry. Harry would go to the line for anyone he called friend, Draco knew it personally because Harry had defended him on many occasions even before they were more acquaintances than friends. He moved closer so he could speak more quietly.
"You may have noticed I've changed somewhat," Draco said, starting his opening gambit.
Harry gave a small nod.
"It wasn't just the end of the war then?" Harry asked quietly.
Draco smiled slightly and shook his head.
"That is what I've been pretending," he revealed in a conspiratorial tone, "but no, it’s a little more fundamental than that, although it did happen because peace was declared."
The expression on Harry's face was rather adorable as the Gryffindor looked at him with a little frown of concentration.
"My family has been hiding something about our heritage," Draco said, allowing his voice to drop as he leaned in close to Harry; "we have Veela blood in the line."
The fact that Harry didn't look as shocked as he had expected led Draco to believe that Harry really didn't understand why that was significant.
"Veela always breed female if the traits show," Draco said, hoping to give Harry some context, "except my family. One of my ancestors had the same dubious taste in spells as some of my relatives and overrode the female prerogative. I'm male, but I have Veela traits."
It was quite clear that Harry still didn't understand quite why what he was saying was important.
"My Veela side woke up because everything is calm now," he continued to explain, "and Veela have a mating drive. There's nothing like Veela instincts for picking out the perfect match and mine is you."
Harry looked rather taken aback by that and his little frown became deeper.
"So you're interested in me because you're at the mercy of your instincts?"
Draco almost did hit his head on the table then; Harry really knew how to take a psychological flaw that one step further than everyone else.
"I'm not at the mercy of anything," Draco said and made a small cross his heart gesture. "If I was I'd have jumped you by now. Ask Hermione if you have to, but she will confirm that Veela instincts are about the best you can get. The crux of the matter is that I like you for you and would be very interested in pursuing a relationship if you would do me the honour."
Harry face was a picture and Draco had to wonder if Harry really was as clueless as he appeared. It was endearing, but a little annoying at the same time.
"Come and dance," Draco said as he glanced away and saw Finnegan returning to the booth, "what do you have to lose?"
"My dignity," he heard Harry mutter, but when he moved to get up he could not help feeling pleased when Harry moved as well.
Finnegan looked surprised as Draco walked passed with Harry in tow and it took quite a lot of effort for him not crow his success to the whole club. It wasn't quite where he wanted to be, but Harry was actually following him.
"I feel ridiculous," Harry said as Draco took his companion's hand and pulled him into the throng of bodies.
"Just go with the flow," Draco replied over the music, "you're a Gryffindor, you lot are good at that."
Harry really didn't look so sure, but Draco was not about to let his prize go now. The beat was hard and thumping through the dance floor like some manic heart and Draco found them a small space, turned to face Harry and let himself absorb the rhythm, closing his eyes as he did so. When he had the feel of it deep in his core as he liked he opened his eyes again and quickly lent forward to place a quick kiss on Harry's lips. Almost instantly after that he started to dance.
Dancing to this kind of beat was not about thinking, it was about feeling and he just let himself move. It wouldn't do to pounce on Harry too fast or he might scare his prize away, so he danced, aware of Harry close to him, but not trying to pull Harry into anything yet. Losing himself in the music he let the Veela out to play forgetting who he always pretended to be and revealing the reality. What he did not expect when he dragged himself back to the real world was to find Harry standing in front of him just staring. It brought him to a gentle stop as Harry's incredibly green eyes seemed to drain the energy out of him.
"What?" he mouthed since they were so close to the speakers that hearing properly was impossible.
Rather than trying to reply Harry took his hand and led him off the dance floor towards the back of the club, away from the noise and away from the booth they had taken. For once in his life Draco had absolutely no idea how to handle the situation. Harry came to a stop and then turned to face him looking very unsure.
"Kiss me," were not the words he thought he was about to hear.
For a moment Draco just stared and then he decided that he wasn't about to say no to that opportunity. Since Harry looked like he might bolt at any second, Draco decided it was now or never, but he moved in slowly. Somehow Harry had ended up slightly taller than him, but standing up straight was also something he was going to have to teach Harry so when he stepped up to his target they were nose to nose. Harry didn't seem to be quite sure what to do so Draco took the lead. Placing a hand gently on the back of Harry's head he turned slightly and pushed his lips carefully against Harry's.
At first there did not seem to be any response so he nipped lightly at Harry's bottom lip and then let his tongue dart across the somewhat dry surface. When Harry finally responded it was to reply to that move and Draco felt the slightest tingling when their tongues met tentatively. It didn't take them long to get into it after that and it turned out that Harry did in fact know how to kiss and kiss very well at that, however, Harry didn't seem to have much of a clue what to do with the rest of him.
When Draco ran his other arm round Harry and draped his hand over Harry's arse, giving it a gentle squeeze, there was a moment when he thought Harry might draw back in shock, but instead Harry moaned and leaned further into the kiss. Things were looking up and up, so Draco let himself enjoy the kiss without analysing it. Only when they finally drew back did he kick his brain into gear again.
"You're gorgeous, you kiss incredibly well," Draco said before Harry could voice an opinion on what they had just done, "what is there not to love?"
He shut his mouth very quickly as he realised what word he had just uttered; how to scare away a prospective partner in one easy step. Perversely Harry just kept looking at him without the slightest hint that he was about to run away.
"Is this just about sex?" Harry asked very seriously.
"No," Draco said without the slightest hesitation.
Draco desperately wanted the sex, but, over the months he had been observing, he had come to realise he wanted all that was Harry as well.
"Then I think," Harry said, pausing in just the wrong place, "I might be interested."
The smile that burst onto Draco's face was completely outside his control and thankfully for his dignity his Veela was only madly jumping up and down on the inside.
"I think I'd like to dance now," Harry said simply and taking his hand led his back onto the dance floor.
Draco decided that he could live with that.
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They had to have danced for a good hour and, despite his earlier protests, Harry did have rhythm. Harry also didn't seem to mind in the slightest when Draco moved in close; it wasn't quite having sex with their clothes on, but it was close and Harry seemed to enjoy it as much as Draco. When they returned to the booth laughing about the reaction a small group of women seemed to have had to their dancing it was not until he slid into the seat after Harry that he realised their friends were looking at them rather hard, or rather looking at him rather hard. It seemed the Gryffindor inquisitional squad had landed.
It was not as if Draco hadn't expected a certain type of reaction from Harry's friends; they were a very protective set of people. It was just that in the heat of the dancing and starting to get what he so wanted he had forgotten it.
Finnegan, Weasley, Hermione, Longbottom and Smith, their token Hufflepuff were all concentrating on him as if he'd just grown another head.
"Don't," Harry said before anyone could say anything.
Draco was rather glad when all eyes shifted from him, he was beginning to think he knew what the Dark Lord might have felt like at the final battle.
"You and Malfoy?" Weasley finally had the guts to say something.
"Me and Draco what?" Harry said and Draco was quite proud of Harry's completely innocent expression.
"We saw you dancing, Harry," Hermione pointed out, Draco just raised his eyebrow when she looked at him.
Harry's grin almost made him lose his cool Slytherin exterior.
"Yeah," Harry said cheerfully, "that was fun."
"Neville saw you kissing too," Hermione added.
"That was fun too," Harry said without the slightest hint of remorse. "I am a big boy, y'know."
For a moment Draco thought Hermione was going to disagree with that, but she didn't. It appeared that Harry's friends were as aware of Harry's lack of experience as Draco was.
"Hermione," Draco said, breaking the silence as he came to a decision, "could I have a word please?"
He indicated a space just past the bar. Hermione looked dubious for a second, but then nodded and Draco stopped any protest from Harry by squeezing Harry's leg under the table. He stood up and walked away from the booth, not stopping or turning until he was in the spot he had indicted, then he spoke before Hermione could ask a question.
"I'm part Veela," he said simply, "an active part."
He watched as the light dawned in Hermione's eyes.
"Oh," was all Hermione said, "I see."
"I would appreciate it if the information didn't go any further," he told her, "and I have mentioned it to Harry."
He knew Hermione would know exactly what he was talking about since they had researched together during the war. Hermione had a formidable brain and more information stored than he cared to think about; he had no doubt she understood perfectly.
"Right," Hermione said with a nod, "that makes more sense now, but just so we're clear; if you side step your instincts and hurt him in any way I will have your balls for earrings."
That's what he liked about Hermione; she could be nice and polite most of the time and just tell it like it was when she wanted to.
"Perfectly clear," Draco said.
They headed back to the table and slid back into their seats. It was clear the others had been waiting and had not spoken much since they had been gone.
"None of our business," Hermione said very firmly and Draco watched all of the men open their mouths to protest and then shut them again when she glared at them.
Sometimes it was very useful being friends with Hermione Granger-Weasley.
On to Part Two
Title: Honesty Is the Best Policy (1 of 2)
Word Count: ~12800
Rating: NC17/18
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Warnings: explicit sex
Summary: Draco has family heritage to deal with and an obsession who is completely immune to his advances. He's about ready to try anything, even honesty.(Harry/Draco)
Notes: Thanks to my beta for sorting out my hideous grammar, anything left is entirely my fault :). To my giftee, I hope you like it.
Link: Other Fic
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Harry Potter might have been the Wizarding world's greatest hero and was described by many as brave, handsome, powerful and clever, but the word Draco would have chosen was 'oblivious'. Once upon a time Draco studied Potter to figure out his rival's weaknesses, these days if truth be told he did it for the same ends, but entirely different reasons. Post war Wizarding Britain was a happy place, mostly, and there were perks to being a war hero.
Having organised the defection of every Dark Lord supporter from his year in Hogwarts to the Light and then spilling everything he knew about the Death Eaters, Draco had been, somewhat reluctantly by some, accepted into the ranks of the good guys. Once he had been dragged to the Dark Lord by Snape he had been surprised to be able to move his mother to safety and he had made a very definite decision that his life would be longer if he changed sides. It had not taken much to convince his brethren of the same thing once Potter had made a reappearance after that summer.
That had been three years ago now and Draco was still viewed by some as a dark wizard. He did still have the tattoo on his left arm that marked him as a Death Eater, but he had also been beside Potter on the battle field at the end. He wasn't sure why Potter had decided to trust him in the beginning, but trust him he had and hence his name was among those honoured rather than reviled by the Wizarding world. Sometimes he still couldn't quite believe where life had led him.
Being veterans it had been decided that once Hogwarts reopened the surviving sixth years as had been would not return to the school for their N.E.W.T.s. Instead evening classes had been set up for all those who wished to finish their education, which meant that Draco had to give up his weekday evenings, but it also meant that he had a chance for regular contact with his current obsession.
Potter was doing something at the Ministry these days, but Draco had no idea what it was. No one seemed to know what Potter did except his closest friends, but Potter turned up to the lessons just like everyone else. Draco was busy trying to rebuild the Malfoy name to what it had been before his father's downfall, but he had decided that having his N.E.W.T.s was important in that as well. Not having his N.E.W.T.s closed a surprising number of doors and so he was studying as hard as he could even though it interfered with everything else he was trying to do.
It didn't help that once the final battle had come and gone he had run slap bang into a family secret he'd had no idea about before. It turned out there was magical creature blood in his family; so much for the pureblood rhetoric. It had started just after he had moved back to the manor with his mother. He'd woken up one morning feeling a little peculiar and when he'd looked in the mirror that day he'd been rather shocked.
Pretending that he wasn't good looking was not in his nature; he had matured nicely and had been the spitting image of his father at his age. However, that morning he had looked at himself and seen a face that was not quite his own; he had still looked like himself, but slightly more feminine, giving him a more androgynous look. That had been the first hint that all was not quite normal and he'd had himself checked out for every spell and hex known to wizardkind, but nothing had shown up.
A little change in wardrobe and hairstyle had distracted from the changes quite well so no one suspected much, but the second shock had been when he had caught himself admiring other wizards. Up until that point Draco had never remotely considered that he might appreciate the male of the species, but after a couple of days he had come to terms with the fact that he did now. With a little more research he had dug into the family vaults and found an interesting diary. It seemed that the Malfoy family was blessed with Veela blood quite a few generations back and it was only a dubious spell cast by an ancestor that meant they bred male at all. The spell it seemed had not eliminated all Veela traits when it came to some individuals and the diary had belonged to one such individual.
Draco had been glad to discover he was not going to suddenly become a real woman, but that his interest in the same sex as well as the opposite sex was very real. He also had a mild form of the Veela allure which had taken some practice, but of which he now had control. He didn't use it often because since he had met the reality of war he really had no taste for drooling, simpering cronies.
"Going to blow us up again next week, Potter?" he asked as they walked out of their Defence Against Dark Arts classroom.
Remus Lupin had them firing defensive and offensive spells at the moment that most of them knew backwards from the war, but for which they lacked finesse that the N.E.W.T. examiners would be looking for. Harry Potter had appeared from the summer after Dumbledore had died with a power level that, had it been in anyone else, might have been scary. No one, not even Potter's closest friends seemed to know what had happened to Potter over that summer, but it had given the Gryffindor hero spectacular magic. When Potter had cast a Diffindo that evening, his target had exploded, giving everyone else a good laugh.
"If you ask nicely I might," Potter shot back, relatively cheerful as usual.
Draco had become used to a focused, serious Potter over the course of the war, but the boy-man had changed almost as soon as the Dark Lord had died. It had been like watching day dawn on a dark night as Potter had stood on the battle field bloodied and bruised and realised that the Dark Lord had fallen to his wand and was finally dead. For a while Draco had been concerned that the Chosen one had stepped off the edge of reality, but Potter was doing a good impression of sane even if the Gryffindor wasn't.
It was Friday night and their lessons ended at nine; on the first week, Seamus Finnegan had suggested anyone who wanted to should go out for a drink. Over the months they had been doing this, a pattern had emerged and there were a handful of them who headed into Wizarding London once they were finished on a Friday. They were going to Libera, a Wizarding club that catered to Muggles as well, for this evening's entertainment. Draco made it a habit to go every week and keep the connections with those he had become friends with during the war; it was fun and politically sound.
It helped to be able to study his obsession in a social situation as well, which was how he had come to the conclusion that Potter was oblivious. Every Friday he watched Potter slide in a booth or stand at the bar having a drink while everyone else danced. It was clear that many people, male and female wanted Potter, but Potter always refused any advances politely, seemingly embarrassed than anyone had asked him. Draco had come to the conclusion that Potter thought people only asked him to dance or more because of who he was and Draco knew that wasn't true.
As they walked to Hogsmeade so they could apparate to London, Draco watched Potter talking and laughing with his closest friends. There was still a lot about Potter that was a mystery even though he'd been studying the Golden Boy for months now, but he had figured out that his friends were the most important thing to Potter. To the casual observer Potter might seem like a very simple person, but Draco was anything but casual about what he was doing and Potter was far more complicated than at first glance.
Something else came with the Veela blood other than the allure, something that had taken Draco a while to recognise. Veela of past history had a mating season where they sought out a human male to act as a sperm donor and then held on to him for a few years until their daughter no longer required looking after. Veela mating cycles were between five and seven years long, but it was not unknown for one Veela to have several men and several children at the same time. These days Veela tended to marry into Wizarding populations, or kidnap the odd Muggle occasionally rather than using the techniques of their past history, but it was still well known that when a Veela set her sights there was little that could change her mind.
The mating drive was present in the Malfoy line, just like the allure for the few whose blood was active, and it translated into an insistent desire to find a partner. It only kicked in when conditions were perfect for bringing up a family according to the diary which was why Draco had had no clue about his heritage until after the war. It was also why he had started to look at the male of the species; the spell on his line had translated his genes into male, but not the instincts. When he had started to go back to Hogwarts for the evening classes, he had discovered his perfect mate, well as far as his hormones were concerned anyway, and Potter was it; hence his rather obsessive behaviour.
It wasn't that he was being compelled to jump Potter as soon as the opportunity arose, but he was very interested and no one else seemed to attract him much since he had begun to fixate. Their world had been dealing with same sex unions for generations; they weren't common, but there were measures in place to make sure pureblood lines didn't die out if such unions occurred so he wasn't overly worried that his choice was male. What did worry him was that Potter never gave any indication if he was open to such things because, well basically Potter didn't give off any signals at all.
He found himself watching Potter's arse a little too closely as they walked and shook himself; it would not do for someone else to notice his fixation until he knew what he was going to do. What had been more of an acquaintance over the war had become a friendship since they had started the evenings out, but Draco still felt that he really didn't know the real Potter. At least once they reached the club he would be able to ogle Potter without anyone paying too much attention.
"So we'll meet at the club in half an hour?" Potter asked as they walked outside Hogwarts' boundaries.
"That's the plan, Oh Glorious Leader," Seamus joked and Draco noticed the way Potter's smile tightened just slightly at the playful salutation.
It was all too clear to anybody that looked that Potter was very insecure under the whole Gryffindor exterior and Draco found that he was not as happy about that as he once would have been. The Veela instincts were really rather ridiculous; he wanted to protect the most powerful wizard on the planet, even from himself.
"See you there," he said and with a wave apparated home.
He usually tried to go out on a quip of some description, but he was thinking far too hard about his object of affection to be sure he wouldn't say anything stupid. Walking up the stairs from the entrance hall of the manor he headed for his room to bathe and change.
"Draco," his mother said, appearing at the top of the stairs, "are you going out again?"
"We're headed for a club this evening," he said walking towards her instead, "but I'd be happy to drop you somewhere first if you would like."
His mother had not been prosecuted as a Death Eater, but it was clear she had done some things that were not completely forgivable given her adult status and had hence been penalised. Narcissa had had her apparition licence revoked for five years and been fined heavily, both of which meant she could not travel as freely as she once had.
"Thank you, darling," she said with a smile, obviously appreciating the gesture, "but I was planning on staying in tonight anyway. I have a visitor arriving later and I was just going to warn you if you were staying in."
Draco nodded, but did not comment. Since his father had been killed in a bungled Death Eater raid after his escape from Azkaban, his mother had been in mourning, but after the war ended she had acquired a lover. She had been quite honest about it and Draco had known from the start, but they did not speak of it directly in respect for his father's memory. The visitor reference was their private code for the issue.
"I probably won't be back until very late," he said, as his mind flicked back to his own problem.
"Then I shall kiss you goodnight now," Narcissa said and stepped forward to peck him on the cheek.
He smiled at that; no one who saw them outside the house would probably believe how affectionate his mother really was.
"Mum," he said before he could turn away and change his mind, "you know the whole Veela thing?"
She nodded.
"There's something I didn't tell you," he admitted.
His mother had been the first person he had gone to when he had seen the changes in himself, but he hadn't shared with her everything he had found out.
"It's not just the allure," he said quickly, not wanting to lose his nerve; "I have the mating drive too. I seem to have fixated on Harry Potter."
There was shock on his mother's features for a moment, but surprisingly she smiled rather fondly after a moment.
"Oh, Draco," she said, reaching out and cupping his face with her hand, "you have been agonising over this haven't you?"
He nodded, after all it was true.
"You've always had good taste," his mother told him, "and Mr Potter would be your perfect match. I assume you are going to approach him tonight."
Draco's thought processes hadn't reached that far, but, when his mother said it, he realised that was what his subconscious was suggesting. He nodded as he made his decision.
"I wish you luck, my darling son, and I thoroughly approve," Narcissa said and gave him another peck on the cheek. "Bring him to breakfast tomorrow if you can entice him home, I would love to meet him properly."
And with that his mother turned and walked back towards her suite of rooms while Draco just stood there. Maybe his mother was more forward thinking than he had ever given her credit for.
====
Draco arrived at the club wearing black from head to foot. He knew he looked stunning and he had styled his hair to play off the androgynous look he had now. Since he was going after his man he didn't want to look too masculine; if Potter really was as innocent as he expected he definitely didn't want to frighten him away. The others were already in a booth since he had taken a little longer than half an hour to get ready and he waved as he walked towards them. Finnegan at least gave him an appreciative up and down, but then everyone knew Seamus would shag anything with a pulse.
Potter gave him a warm smile, but didn't so much as blink as he sat down next to the Gryffindor in the only available seat left.
"You should wear black more often, Draco," Hermione said cheerfully from where she was sitting on the other side of the table, "you look stunning this evening."
Weasley began turning red around the edges at his wife's comments and the last thing Draco wanted was an explosion this early in the evening.
"Why thank you, Mrs Granger-Weasley, it's always lovely to receive compliments from beautiful women, even if they are spoken for," he said in his most charming voice.
That worked well since Weasley didn't seem to know how to react to his wife being complimented in such a manner. Draco turned on the allure just a little as well and saw it relax everyone, well everyone except Potter. Why his fixation had to be immune to his one advantage was something he would have liked to discus with the universe, but he was sure fate was laughing far too hard to pay attention.
"So who needs another?" he asked and looked around the table to see what everyone was drinking.
At least he could distract himself until he had a chance to be alone with Potter, which came faster than he expected when he returned from the bar. Potter was sitting alone in their booth and glancing over at the dance floor he could see where everyone else was. The beat was fast and it was some Muggle tune, but magical folk and Muggles alike seemed to be enjoying it. On any other night Draco would have made his way onto the dance floor as well, but he wasn't going to unless he could take Potter with him this time.
"Been abandoned?" he asked, slipping back into his seat and leaving the tray of drinks in the middle of the table.
"As always," Potter replied with a slight smile, "given my two left feet."
"No one has two left feet," Draco said, leaning back and taking a sip of his drink; "people who think they have just haven't found a reason to dance yet."
Potter laughed at that.
"You've really never seen me dance then, well except at the Yule ball," Potter said; "I suck."
"Promise?" Draco said and raised one eyebrow before he thought about what he was saying.
The way Potter blushed was really very endearing.
"Wouldn't you like to know," Potter tried to joke back, but it was obvious that he was embarrassed.
Draco felt a lump form in his throat as he realised his opening was right in front of him not twenty minutes into the evening.
"Actually I wouldn't mind finding out," he said, letting the humour fade from his voice.
He had had plans within plans whirling around in his head as he showered and changed and now they were all in a pile around his feet. It seemed that Gryffindorishness was catching. For a few seconds Potter just looked at him.
"I'm flattered," were not the words he was really expecting, "but I'm not really into one night stands."
It took a while for Draco's brain to process that and he could see the insecurity in his target raising its ugly head again. How someone so powerful and so perfect could be so unsure of himself was beyond Draco, although given his hormonal state he realised his outlook could be a little biased.
"Who said anything about a one night stand?" he said eventually since there was no point in beating around the bush.
Potter looked a little surprised at that.
"Look, Po...Harry," he said, mentally relabelling his obsession as he made his play, "I don't know what you may have heard about me, but no matter what my image may be, I'm not a player, well not anymore anyway."
"I hadn't heard anything actually," Harry replied after a moment, "but why would you want anything more from me?"
Draco looked very hard at Harry then and came to the conclusion that Harry's insecurities ran even deeper than he had expected.
"You mean because I don't need your money and I don't need the prestige of an Order of Merlin first class because you made them give me one of those too?" he asked bluntly.
It was clear that subtle would not work in the current situation and Harry looked rather uncomfortable with the question.
"Harry, believe it or not, I'm interested in you for you, nothing that might come with your name," Draco revealed as straightforwardly as he knew how. "I've known you for a very long time, remember?"
"So have a lot of other people," Harry pointed out.
"I've watched you reject person after person for months," Draco said, leaning forward so that Harry knew he was serious; "you seriously undervalue yourself you know."
Harry looked away and Draco didn't like the way his friend and current lust object seemed to not believe him.
"People have only ever wanted me because of my name," Harry said in a tone that was only just about audible above the music of the club.
"Possibly," Draco replied because he was not about to dig into that whole minefield, "but I promise I have no interest in your name, more your arse and what's hidden under that ugly shirt."
One of the things Draco was going to have to do if he and Harry were going to have a future was take his obsession shopping; Harry really had horrible taste in clothes. It was as if Harry had never had a chance to choose clothes and so just went for the first thing he found.
Harry was going a lovely pink colour again, but the bashful Gryffindor did turn back.
"Why?" Harry asked and it was clear it was a genuine question.
"Because you may have terrible taste in clothes," Draco said honestly, "but underneath you're gorgeous and so incredibly innocent that people would kill to attract you."
He knew he was being mushier than he normally would have been, but Harry seemed to bring that out in him. His inner Veela was purring in appreciation of every advance he made towards Harry. The way Harry looked down at himself and frowned was not settling, but so far Harry wasn't running away.
"I do not have terrible taste in clothes," Harry protested and Draco felt like hitting his head on the table.
"Yes you do," he said very definitely, "trust me on that one. We are going to have to educate you on that at some point no matter what, but that really wasn't my point. I have very good reasons for being interested in you that have nothing to do with who you are or what you may have done."
Harry still didn't look convinced. For the first time Draco considered the fact that Harry might actually be incapable of believing him.
"Harry," Draco said after a few moments, "I'm going to tell you something, something that is possibly the biggest secret my family have, but I think you need to know."
At least Harry looked surprised about that.
"I have impeccable taste," Draco said, trying to make light of what he was about to say, "but I also have other instincts to back it up."
Literally no one outside of his family had any idea about his heritage and the Slytherin part of him didn't want to mention it now, but the Veela was urging him to do everything that was necessary and honesty was definitely important to Harry. He was completely torn, but if there was one thing he knew without a doubt was that he trusted Harry. Harry would go to the line for anyone he called friend, Draco knew it personally because Harry had defended him on many occasions even before they were more acquaintances than friends. He moved closer so he could speak more quietly.
"You may have noticed I've changed somewhat," Draco said, starting his opening gambit.
Harry gave a small nod.
"It wasn't just the end of the war then?" Harry asked quietly.
Draco smiled slightly and shook his head.
"That is what I've been pretending," he revealed in a conspiratorial tone, "but no, it’s a little more fundamental than that, although it did happen because peace was declared."
The expression on Harry's face was rather adorable as the Gryffindor looked at him with a little frown of concentration.
"My family has been hiding something about our heritage," Draco said, allowing his voice to drop as he leaned in close to Harry; "we have Veela blood in the line."
The fact that Harry didn't look as shocked as he had expected led Draco to believe that Harry really didn't understand why that was significant.
"Veela always breed female if the traits show," Draco said, hoping to give Harry some context, "except my family. One of my ancestors had the same dubious taste in spells as some of my relatives and overrode the female prerogative. I'm male, but I have Veela traits."
It was quite clear that Harry still didn't understand quite why what he was saying was important.
"My Veela side woke up because everything is calm now," he continued to explain, "and Veela have a mating drive. There's nothing like Veela instincts for picking out the perfect match and mine is you."
Harry looked rather taken aback by that and his little frown became deeper.
"So you're interested in me because you're at the mercy of your instincts?"
Draco almost did hit his head on the table then; Harry really knew how to take a psychological flaw that one step further than everyone else.
"I'm not at the mercy of anything," Draco said and made a small cross his heart gesture. "If I was I'd have jumped you by now. Ask Hermione if you have to, but she will confirm that Veela instincts are about the best you can get. The crux of the matter is that I like you for you and would be very interested in pursuing a relationship if you would do me the honour."
Harry face was a picture and Draco had to wonder if Harry really was as clueless as he appeared. It was endearing, but a little annoying at the same time.
"Come and dance," Draco said as he glanced away and saw Finnegan returning to the booth, "what do you have to lose?"
"My dignity," he heard Harry mutter, but when he moved to get up he could not help feeling pleased when Harry moved as well.
Finnegan looked surprised as Draco walked passed with Harry in tow and it took quite a lot of effort for him not crow his success to the whole club. It wasn't quite where he wanted to be, but Harry was actually following him.
"I feel ridiculous," Harry said as Draco took his companion's hand and pulled him into the throng of bodies.
"Just go with the flow," Draco replied over the music, "you're a Gryffindor, you lot are good at that."
Harry really didn't look so sure, but Draco was not about to let his prize go now. The beat was hard and thumping through the dance floor like some manic heart and Draco found them a small space, turned to face Harry and let himself absorb the rhythm, closing his eyes as he did so. When he had the feel of it deep in his core as he liked he opened his eyes again and quickly lent forward to place a quick kiss on Harry's lips. Almost instantly after that he started to dance.
Dancing to this kind of beat was not about thinking, it was about feeling and he just let himself move. It wouldn't do to pounce on Harry too fast or he might scare his prize away, so he danced, aware of Harry close to him, but not trying to pull Harry into anything yet. Losing himself in the music he let the Veela out to play forgetting who he always pretended to be and revealing the reality. What he did not expect when he dragged himself back to the real world was to find Harry standing in front of him just staring. It brought him to a gentle stop as Harry's incredibly green eyes seemed to drain the energy out of him.
"What?" he mouthed since they were so close to the speakers that hearing properly was impossible.
Rather than trying to reply Harry took his hand and led him off the dance floor towards the back of the club, away from the noise and away from the booth they had taken. For once in his life Draco had absolutely no idea how to handle the situation. Harry came to a stop and then turned to face him looking very unsure.
"Kiss me," were not the words he thought he was about to hear.
For a moment Draco just stared and then he decided that he wasn't about to say no to that opportunity. Since Harry looked like he might bolt at any second, Draco decided it was now or never, but he moved in slowly. Somehow Harry had ended up slightly taller than him, but standing up straight was also something he was going to have to teach Harry so when he stepped up to his target they were nose to nose. Harry didn't seem to be quite sure what to do so Draco took the lead. Placing a hand gently on the back of Harry's head he turned slightly and pushed his lips carefully against Harry's.
At first there did not seem to be any response so he nipped lightly at Harry's bottom lip and then let his tongue dart across the somewhat dry surface. When Harry finally responded it was to reply to that move and Draco felt the slightest tingling when their tongues met tentatively. It didn't take them long to get into it after that and it turned out that Harry did in fact know how to kiss and kiss very well at that, however, Harry didn't seem to have much of a clue what to do with the rest of him.
When Draco ran his other arm round Harry and draped his hand over Harry's arse, giving it a gentle squeeze, there was a moment when he thought Harry might draw back in shock, but instead Harry moaned and leaned further into the kiss. Things were looking up and up, so Draco let himself enjoy the kiss without analysing it. Only when they finally drew back did he kick his brain into gear again.
"You're gorgeous, you kiss incredibly well," Draco said before Harry could voice an opinion on what they had just done, "what is there not to love?"
He shut his mouth very quickly as he realised what word he had just uttered; how to scare away a prospective partner in one easy step. Perversely Harry just kept looking at him without the slightest hint that he was about to run away.
"Is this just about sex?" Harry asked very seriously.
"No," Draco said without the slightest hesitation.
Draco desperately wanted the sex, but, over the months he had been observing, he had come to realise he wanted all that was Harry as well.
"Then I think," Harry said, pausing in just the wrong place, "I might be interested."
The smile that burst onto Draco's face was completely outside his control and thankfully for his dignity his Veela was only madly jumping up and down on the inside.
"I think I'd like to dance now," Harry said simply and taking his hand led his back onto the dance floor.
Draco decided that he could live with that.
====
They had to have danced for a good hour and, despite his earlier protests, Harry did have rhythm. Harry also didn't seem to mind in the slightest when Draco moved in close; it wasn't quite having sex with their clothes on, but it was close and Harry seemed to enjoy it as much as Draco. When they returned to the booth laughing about the reaction a small group of women seemed to have had to their dancing it was not until he slid into the seat after Harry that he realised their friends were looking at them rather hard, or rather looking at him rather hard. It seemed the Gryffindor inquisitional squad had landed.
It was not as if Draco hadn't expected a certain type of reaction from Harry's friends; they were a very protective set of people. It was just that in the heat of the dancing and starting to get what he so wanted he had forgotten it.
Finnegan, Weasley, Hermione, Longbottom and Smith, their token Hufflepuff were all concentrating on him as if he'd just grown another head.
"Don't," Harry said before anyone could say anything.
Draco was rather glad when all eyes shifted from him, he was beginning to think he knew what the Dark Lord might have felt like at the final battle.
"You and Malfoy?" Weasley finally had the guts to say something.
"Me and Draco what?" Harry said and Draco was quite proud of Harry's completely innocent expression.
"We saw you dancing, Harry," Hermione pointed out, Draco just raised his eyebrow when she looked at him.
Harry's grin almost made him lose his cool Slytherin exterior.
"Yeah," Harry said cheerfully, "that was fun."
"Neville saw you kissing too," Hermione added.
"That was fun too," Harry said without the slightest hint of remorse. "I am a big boy, y'know."
For a moment Draco thought Hermione was going to disagree with that, but she didn't. It appeared that Harry's friends were as aware of Harry's lack of experience as Draco was.
"Hermione," Draco said, breaking the silence as he came to a decision, "could I have a word please?"
He indicated a space just past the bar. Hermione looked dubious for a second, but then nodded and Draco stopped any protest from Harry by squeezing Harry's leg under the table. He stood up and walked away from the booth, not stopping or turning until he was in the spot he had indicted, then he spoke before Hermione could ask a question.
"I'm part Veela," he said simply, "an active part."
He watched as the light dawned in Hermione's eyes.
"Oh," was all Hermione said, "I see."
"I would appreciate it if the information didn't go any further," he told her, "and I have mentioned it to Harry."
He knew Hermione would know exactly what he was talking about since they had researched together during the war. Hermione had a formidable brain and more information stored than he cared to think about; he had no doubt she understood perfectly.
"Right," Hermione said with a nod, "that makes more sense now, but just so we're clear; if you side step your instincts and hurt him in any way I will have your balls for earrings."
That's what he liked about Hermione; she could be nice and polite most of the time and just tell it like it was when she wanted to.
"Perfectly clear," Draco said.
They headed back to the table and slid back into their seats. It was clear the others had been waiting and had not spoken much since they had been gone.
"None of our business," Hermione said very firmly and Draco watched all of the men open their mouths to protest and then shut them again when she glared at them.
Sometimes it was very useful being friends with Hermione Granger-Weasley.
On to Part Two