alisanne

Title: The Veela Connection
Author:

alisanne
Rating: PG
Pairing: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter.
Word Count: ~1300
Warnings: None.
A/N: Written for

hp_creatures/

hp_creatures's February prompt: Hungarian Horntail, Intuitive, “Fear of joy is the darkest of captivities.” ― Phil Kaye
Beta(s):

sevfan and emynn.
Disclaimer: The characters contained herein are not mine. No money is being made from this fiction, which is presented for entertainment purposes only.

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The Veela Connection

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His entire body aching, Draco circled in the air once more, looking down at the tops of trees. Snapping his wings wide to catch as much air as possible, he glided towards his mountain, smiling when he saw Horace waiting.

Tilting his wings greeting, Draco flew directly past Horace, chuckling as he snorted, and the resultant blast of warm air boosted Draco up and into the mouth of his cave. “Good boy, Horace! Thanks!” he cried, grinning as Horace tossed his head and settled down once more to keep watch.

Draco folded his wings and managed to land with just a small hop despite the pain in his bones. “Getting better at that,” he said aloud. “One of these days I’ll perfect it.”

“Of that I have no doubt,” came a voice, and Draco shrieked, spinning around, claws and wings extended in an instinctive defensive pose. How had an intruder not managed to rouse his intuitive internal alarms?

“Who’s there?”

“Shit! Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. Damn, I’m bolloxing this up already—”

Draco squinted into the corner of his cave where he saw a shadow detach itself and move towards him. “I’m warning you,” he growled. “If you’re a poacher seeking Veela parts, you’ll find I’m no pushover—”

“I’m not.” And Potter emerged into the light.

Draco gaped at him. “Potter? What…How in the fuck did you find me?”

Potter pointed at his distinctive Auror robes. “It’s what I do, actually. I track down missing people. I admit, you proved quite a challenge, but I finally found you.”

A stab of panic shot through Draco. “Are you here to arrest me?”

“No. Why, have you committed a crime?”

Draco sighed, lowering his arms, retracting his claws, and folding his wings away once more. “I have according to my parents,” he said, tone dry. “But I’ve done nothing actually illegal, no.” Huffing, he walked over to where his blankets were and picked one up, draping it over his shoulders. “How did you get in here, anyway? I have a guard dog, after all.”

“Your Hungarian Horntail, you mean?” Potter smiled. “I met him, yes. Lovely fellow. Quite friendly.”

Draco rolled his eyes. “And just how did you figure that out? Wait, dragons don’t speak Parseltongue, do they?”

“Not that I’m aware of.” Potter looked around. “Do you mind if I sit down? It took some effort to get up here.”

“Oh sure, pull up a rock,” quipped Draco. “And you mean Horace didn’t just carry you up?” he continued loudly enough for the dragon to hear.

Horace snorted.

Potter sat on a flat rock, raising an eyebrow. “His names’s Horace?”

Settling himself cross-legged on the floor, Draco smirked. “Named after Slughorn, yes. All bark, no bite. You know, usually people see a Hungarian Horntail and they take off running, they don’t hang about and try to make friends.” He shook his head. “Only you, Potter.”

A faint smile crossed Potter’s face. “Well, in my defence, I tend to assume most animals are not out to kill me until they actually try. Plus, I remember the dragon they had chained up at Gringotts.” His expression hardened. “I was prepared to try to free Horace until I realised he wasn’t trapped and is, in fact, free to leave at any time.”

Draco raised an eyebrow. “You thought I’d trapped him?”

Potter shrugged. “Sorry.” He pursed his lips. “Do Veela and dragons have some special connection or something?”

Crossing his arms, Draco said, “What exactly are you asking me, Potter? Are you intimating that Horace and I are…closer than typical for a man and a dragon?”

“Are you?”

“No idea.” Draco smirked. “In case you didn’t know, I’m entirely new at this. I have no clue if Veela have a special connection with anyone but other Veela.” He huffed, looking down at his hands. “I don’t know any other Veela. And my parents certainly didn’t give me any information. In fact, when my wings manifested, my father accused my mother of cheating on him.” Draco laughed darkly. “Neither of them were prepared to accept that any pure-blood Black or Malfoy could be anything but entirely wizard.”

“I’m sorry, Malfoy.”

“Are you?” Draco looked up at him. “Why are you here anyway, Potter? Did someone send you?”

“You parents.” Potter nodded as Draco hissed in surprise. “Narcissa had me over for tea and asked me to find you and bring you home.”

“And Father?” Draco asked. “Does he want a son with wings?”

“I think he just wants his son back.” Potter smiled. “Look, they begged me, Malfoy. And I get the impression they’re not the sort who usually beg.”

“No, they’re not.” Draco exhaled. “All right. Let’s say I do decide to leave my sumptuous surroundings and go home. Then what? They lock me in the dungeons and leave me to rot?”

“I won’t let them do that,” said Potter quietly.

“Really,” Draco drawled. “I’m not sure how you’ll know once you leave, Potter. Unless you’re planning to stay with me once I move back in.”

Outside, Horace snorted again.

“Ah yes, plus there’s Horace. I’m not leaving him. He’s my friend. Possibly my only friend. Did you know Pansy tried to turn me over to the Ministry when she found out?”

“I heard about that, yes.” Potter stood up. “And I swear to you, Malfoy, I will not let that happen to you. We’ll find a place for Horace, and the laws are being changed, no one will be able to do that to you.”

“How can you say that?” Draco cried, jumping to his feet. “You can’t prevent it! And why do you even care?”

Potter smiled, shrugging off his robes. “I care because it affects me, too,” he said, and before Draco’s eyes, he sprouted Veela wings.

“You’re Veela?” Draco gasped. “That’s why you were able to hide and wait for me and I didn’t sense you! Of course.”

Potter’s smile was lopsided. “I figured you knew.”

“I probably should have.” Draco stepped backwards as Potter moved towards him. “What…what are you doing?”

“Can’t you feel the connection between us?” Potter extended a hand. “Your chest’s been aching recently, hasn’t it? And now it’s not?”

Draco blinked. “How did you—?”

“Because mine’s been aching, too.” Potter was almost within touching distance. “It’s how I found you. I followed the pull of my mate.”

“Mate?! Oh no!” Draco continued backing away until he could go no further.

Potter sighed. “Fear of joy is the greatest of captivities, Malfoy. Are you afraid I could make you happy?”

Draco shook his head. “I’m not afraid of anything,” he lied, but the moment Potter touched him, he began to tremble.

Slowly, Potter drew Draco in, and he clung to Potter, closing his eyes as calm settled over him, and the almost constant pain he’d felt since manifesting as Veela eased. When he opened his eyes again, he was still in Potter’s arms, and Potter’s wings surrounded both of them. “Well fuck me,” he muttered, burying his face in the curve of Potter’s neck.

“Oh, I plan to.” Potter chuckled. “I’d just hoped you’d want to get back to civilization first. Not that your cave isn’t lovely, but I don’t fancy trying to do it on these rocks. Plus, we should get you and Horace home and settled first I think.”

“Arse,” huffed Draco, although, from the desire rising in his core, he was pretty sure he’d be climbing Potter like a tree the moment it was feasible. And, smiling, he allowed himself to hope for a good future for the first time in ages.

~