Angels and Devils

Chapter 05/10 Complications

By the time they reached the hospital wing it was quite obvious to Harry why Malfoy had wanted to avoid anyone trying to take advantage of his heritage; it appeared that the Veela sex drive, once engaged, was far worse than anything his Seraphim heritage had been putting him through so far. Twice on the way there he had had to redirect Malfoy so that the Slytherin was concentrating on where they were going rather than what Harry was doing.

He might have found himself doing strange things to attract Malfoy, but Malfoy seemed to be completely loosing his mind to hormones very rapidly. It was actually quite scary and Harry could only pray that Poppy could do something about Malfoy's problem before Seraphim sat up and took note of sex-crazed Veela.

"Mating frenzy," Malfoy said the moment he set eyes on Poppy, "need suppressant, now."

The Slytherin was obviously not at his most articulate.

"Mr Potter," the healer said efficiently, "please take a seat at the other end of the room. Mr Malfoy, sit on that bed and I will be back in a moment."

She disappeared as Harry went to do as he was told, and he was slightly worried that it was more difficult than it should have been to walk away from Malfoy. He sat down and tried not to think too hard as he watched Poppy come back from her store cupboard and give Malfoy two potions. The Slytherin downed them like his life depended on it and then sat there fidgeting as Poppy cast some diagnostic charms over him.

"You should feel the affects of the suppressant imminently," she told Malfoy professionally, and Harry did not try and pretend he was not listening. "It will suppress any urges you may be having and if we are in time, give the neutralising potion an opportunity to reverse the mating drive. How do you feel?"

For a moment her patient sat there thinking about this and then a very annoyed frown appeared on his face.

"Like I want to kill Potter, rather than do anything else to him," the Slytherin said viciously and quite frankly Harry had never been so pleased to hear a threat in his life.

Poppy tutted at Malfoy for that comment, but did not elaborate on her disapproval and Harry could not help feeling guilty.

"Mr Potter," Poppy said in the usual formal manner she used when in company, "you may return to this end of the room."

Never one to push his luck, even though he and the healer were good friends he quickly walked towards to pair. As soon as he reached them Poppy pulled a small bottle out of her apron and handed it to him.

"Drink this," she said firmly and Harry was not quite sure how much trouble he was in; after all he was supposed to have gone out and just talked to Malfoy and he had returned with him in this state. "It will suppress any reaction you may be having to Mr Malfoy's hormonal state until we have determined if the effect has been reversed. There is an even chance that by tomorrow morning we should be in no worse a position than we were this morning. I have summoned the headmaster and your heads of houses, and when they arrive I would be most grateful if you would explain exactly what happened."

"It's all Potter's fault," Malfoy said sullenly, but a look from Poppy stopped him from going any further.

Harry opened the bottle and downed its contents, not even bothering to grimace at the awful taste; he was too worried about what was going on. Poppy did not appear happy with him, but then he couldn't really blame her, he had just managed to make a bad situation worse without even really trying. It wasn't as if he could have predicted the lightening strike.

She made him sit down so she could cast a few diagnostic charms, but she said nothing else directly to him as they waited for, as far as Harry was concerned, doom to arrive.

The first to appear was Dumbledore, who breezed in and gave both Harry and Malfoy a bright smile.

"Good afternoon, Gentlemen, Madame Pomfrey, I understand we have a small problem," the headmaster said cheerfully.

Dumbledore's habit of understating the true gravity of anything but life and death situations appeared to be a little much for Malfoy to take right about then.

"Little?" the Slytherin said incredulously. "Potter may have very well wrecked my life."

"No need to be melodramatic, Mr Malfoy," Poppy reprimanded gently.

Harry couldn't help hoping that that was all it was. He prayed quietly that tomorrow everything would be back to normal and he could just get on with making a complete prat out of himself as Malfoy laughed; he didn't even want to consider what would happen if the treatment did not work.

Snape chose that moment to walk in, took one look at Harry and sneered.

"What has Potter managed to do now?" the potions master asked acidly just as Professor McGonagall appeared in the doorway behind him.

"It could quite easily have been, Mr Malfoy," Harry's head of house said in his support and he was very glad to have at least one person on his side.

Snape gave Professor McGonagall a long look and then walked fully into the room.
"There has been an unfortunate accident," Madame Pomfrey explained calmly, "and Mr Potter has inadvertently triggered Mr Malfoy's Veela heritage."

The subject of Malfoy's peculiarities in family line did not seem to be a surprise to anyone.

"He triggered mine first," Harry muttered under his breath, and from the way Professor Dumbledore looked at him he had to assume the headmaster was anything but hard of hearing.

"And just how did you manage that, Potter?" Snape was definitely not going to let him off the hook.

"He touched me," Malfoy said pointedly, "after I specifically told him not to."

"Do not forget the lightening, Malfoy," Harry said pointedly, "you were about to be struck."

Snape opened his mouth to comment on this when Dumbledore put up his hand, drawing the man up short.

"I believe," the headmaster said thoughtfully, "that taking a moment to discover the facts in this case, may shed more light on the situation than recriminations. Harry, did you touch Mr Malfoy after he gave you instructions to the contrary?"

Harry glanced at all the faces looking at him.

"Yes," he said honestly, "but it was an accident."

The look on Snape's face said that he was about to really have a go, but Dumbledore was not ready to relinquish control.

"And, Harry," the headmaster continued calmly, "would you please explain why you took such action."

"We were out by the lake talking," he was very glad to be able to give his side of the story, "and a storm came in. We were on our way back when the lightening started and I felt the static build up and knew we were going to be hit. I jumped at Malfoy and put my wings up to protect us," he saw both Snape and McGonagall raise their eyebrows at the wing comment, "and I don't know what happened after I was hit, but we ended up holding hands."

"You were struck by lightening?" Snape sounded incredulous.

"Yes," Harry replied firmly, "it hurt like hell."

Professor McGonagall was still looking at him enquiringly.

"Would someone mind explaining how Mr Potter comes to have wings," the woman asked evenly.

Dumbledore looked to Harry with an enquiry in his eyes and Harry nodded.

"Mr Potter has Seraphim ancestry," the headmaster explained for the two heads of house. "His defeat of Voldemort has allowed this ancestry to manifest."

Professor McGonagall appeared impressed; Snape looked disgusted.

"And I'm in heat," Harry admitted quietly and saw the surprise in even Dumbledore's eyes.

"Which is why I told you not to touch me," Malfoy took the opportunity for another dig.

"Yes, Mr Malfoy," Professor McGonagall said shortly, "I believe we have established what you did or did not tell Mr Potter."

"If the sources are to be believed," Snape said coldly, turning everyone's attention straight back to him, "Seraphim come on heat when they find another they deem suitable as a mate. Who did you choose, Mr Potter; the Granger girl?"

It did not seem to have occurred to the two members of staff who did not know, that Harry's problem and the Malfoy situation were directly connected, and he found he couldn't bring himself to say it. Going bright red he looked to Poppy for assistance.

"Mr Potter came to me for advice this morning," the healer said evenly, "he is fixated on Mr Malfoy. I suggested that Mr Malfoy be made aware of the situation to avoid possible incidents such as the one which appears to have occurred."

Harry just wanted to disappear into the floor he was so embarrassed. Professor McGonagall seemed to find the entire situation completely unbelievable and stared at him almost as hard as Snape was.

"Harry," the woman said slowly, "why did you choose Mr Malfoy?"

"I didn't," Harry protested firmly, "we hate each other. I didn't have a choice in the matter; the bit of me with wings thinks he's the best candidate and there's nothing I can do about it."

The expression on Snape's face was becoming nastier by the second and Harry didn't like that at all.

"Regardless of why Mr Potter has done what he did," the head of Slytherin said acidly, "he has clearly assaulted Mr Malfoy, and this situation must be dealt with."

Harry would have protested, but the look the other three members of staff sent Snape said everything he may have wanted to express.

"Mr Malfoy," Dumbledore said calmly and turned towards the Slytherin, "since it appears on the surface of things that you are the injured party, I feel it should be you who choose how we proceed in this matter. If you wish we will alert the Ministry and have this matter investigated formally or alternatively, if you wish this matter to remain between yourself and Mr Potter, far from the public eye, we will deal with it as such."

There was glee in Malfoy's eye for a few moments until the headmaster mentioned 'the public eye' at which point the Slytherin seemed to realise that this situation would expose not only Harry, but himself to scrutiny. It was almost possible to see the thoughts track across his face and Harry waited nervously for the answer.

"I would prefer," Malfoy said slowly, "that as few people be made aware of this situation as possible."

Dumbledore smiled at the Slytherin cheerfully.

"Very well," the headmaster said brightly, "we will deal with this as quietly as possible as an internal matter. I believe that the whole incident is clearly an accident and hence little could be gained from punishing either party involved. I assume Madame Pomfrey has the matter in hand."

"Yes Headmaster," Poppy said efficiently; "Mr Malfoy has taken the suppressant and neutralising potions and now all we can do is wait. I have also dosed Mr Potter with suppressant to prevent his condition affecting Mr Malfoy while the neutralising potion has time to work. The effects of all potions will wear off in approximately twelve hours, at which point if Mr Malfoy still feels himself under any compunction to seek out Mr Potter he should return here and we will try other alternatives."

The smile that the headmaster gave everyone in the room was somewhat over the top as far as Harry was concerned, but he was incredibly glad he would not be in detention with Filch for the rest of his school life.

"Good," Dumbledore said lightly, "then I believe that is settled. Professor Snape, Professor McGonagall, if you wouldn't mind escorting your respective pupil back their common room, I believe we may set this matter to rest."

Neither of the Slytherins appeared very happy with the outcome, but when the headmaster made such cheerful pronouncements the whole school knew you couldn't do anything about them.

"Come with me, Harry," Professor McGonagall said supportively, "and I'll see what I can do about your uniform before you return to your friends."

That also translated as 'we're going to my office and having a little chat' in McGonagall speak, but who was Harry to argue and he followed his head of house meekly.

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It had gone from a not great day to a really bad day and Harry was very unhappy. Not only was he obsessed with Malfoy, but now there was a fifty-fifty chance that the Slytherin would go into heat fully with him as the target. With both of them going after each other the likelihood of them ending up sleeping together was very high and Harry did not even want to consider the five percent probability that Malfoy had mentioned. Fathering a child by Malfoy was definitely not on his to-do list. To top it all he had shredded his favourite jumper and his winter cloak and thanks to the fact that his wings had done so magically the garments were refusing to be repaired by any spell.

He walked into the Gryffindor common room feeling understandably depressed as well as still aching in every muscle and found everyone staring at him. With certain dread he knew his day had just gone from bad to worse.

"Um, Harry," it was Colin Creevy who summoned the courage to speak, "about the wings."

He had been seen. Someone had seen him save Malfoy and Harry knew without a doubt that the whole school would have been informed by now. Not caring who was in the room the golden boy of Gryffindor proceeded to swear in the most colourful way he knew how for a good twenty seconds, and then stormed towards his dorm. As he reached the tower steps he turned and glared at the shocked faces.

"Just to stop the questions; one of my ancestors was a Seraphim," he announced loudly so everyone could hear, "and Voldemort's final laugh is that because of his power I get wings. If that's not freaky enough I'm in heat and I'm obsessing over Draco bloody Malfoy who hates me with a passion that is second only to how the Dark Lord himself used to feel about me. My life is a nightmare and I think I'm going to lock myself in my room and never come out ever again."

He turned and ran up the stairs three at a time.

"He's in a good mood," someone said quietly, but with his overactive senses Harry picked it up.

"I heard that!" he bellowed down the stairs and then marched into his dorm.

He was very glad to find it empty and slammed the door dramatically, after which he pulled out his wand and threw a locking charm at it that had so much power behind it, about the only person who would be able to make it through was Dumbledore. If his dorm mates wanted in they were going to have to persuade him to open it.

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"Potter!" Malfoy's voice rang out across the Great hall as the Slytherin came charging through the door. "Prepare to die a very painful death."

Harry turned from where he was about to sit down and decided that the Slytherin was probably serious since Malfoy had his wand in his hand. Just in case he reached into his sleeve and pulled out his own wand; the pupils in between the pair scattered to either side. Malfoy's anger answered the question as to whether Poppy's treatment had taken: it obviously hadn't.

"I'm going to eliminate my problem before I can't think anymore and I don't care if I have to spend the rest of my life in Azkaban," the Slytherin really was very annoyed.

It occurred to the back of Harry's mind that Madame Pomfrey had specifically said Malfoy should go straight to her if the treatment did not work, but the part-Veela appeared far too angry for that.

"I'm sorry," Harry shouted back as anger warred with desire, "you were about to be struck by lightening, what was I supposed to do?"

"Cast a shield charm, leap in front of me," Malfoy snarled and waved his wand menacingly, "but I thought I made it very clear you were never to touch me."

That was just so unfair that anger won again.

"I had less than a second to act," Harry protested loudly, "if I'd gone for my wand you'd be crispy on the edges and there was no time to get off the ground."

They were no more than two meters apart now and Malfoy was pointing his wand directly at Harry's chest. He couldn't help noticing that the Slytherin's grey eyes almost shone when he was angry. Disgusted with himself and trying to clear his head of any such ideas Harry took a deep, calming breath.

"Let me make it absolutely clear," Malfoy said in a very dangerous tone that Harry found strangely sexy, "if you lay one hand on me I will rip it off."

Cursing every deity under the sun Harry gave up on anything resembling calm and tried for simply not grabbing the Slytherin there and then.

"You think I like this any better than you do?" he replied hotly. "It's not my fault you picked a bloody stupid place to talk when there was a storm coming in."

His problem was, part of him liked the idea of ripping Malfoy's clothes off very much and it seemed to be gaining more of his brain's attention.

"Oh so this is my fault now is it?" the Slytherin shot back furiously. "If you hadn't accosted me after the match we wouldn't have been talking in the first place."

Without his conscious consent Harry took a step towards Malfoy and had to restrain himself from moving any further.

"I was trying to warn you," he said pointedly. "If I hadn't talked to you I wouldn't have known I was not supposed to touch you and I could have done the same thing in Potions without even knowing it. I'm sorry, okay, but there's nothing I can do about it now; it was an accident."

"You're one big walking accident, Potter," Malfoy returned and moved forward again.

A slightly pained expression crossed the Slytherin's features and Harry was almost sure Malfoy was having the same problem thinking straight as he was. The attraction was palpable and he suddenly realised that being in the same room as Malfoy was a really bad idea.

"Malfoy, magical fields interact," he said trying to think logically for one minute, "one of us should leave; now."

By the time he finished his tone was a little strangled. Malfoy swore and tried to turn, but only managed a look away before he snapped back.

"I should have killed you already," the part-Veela bemoaned and closed his eyes in desperation.

Harry just about managed to keep himself in the same place as a surge of almost unstoppable lust ran through him. Oh they were definitely interacting now; both on heat and neither of them could break away.

"Goyle," the Slytherin called to his companion urgently, "get me the hell out of here this instant."

Harry's wing nubs twitched as the wall of a boy moved to do as Malfoy told him; the part of him that was rapidly gaining control did not like that idea. It was as if the primeval part of his brain had woken up and was taking over, leaving his rational thoughts to sit at the back of his mind and kill time. He knew without a doubt that if something didn't happen soon the pull of his instincts would be too much for him. Harry Potter jumping Draco Malfoy in the Great Hall for everyone to see was not how he wanted to go down in Hogwarts history.

When Goyle reached out to take hold of Malfoy's shoulders Harry's wand hand flicked as if it had a mind of its own and the broad Slytherin went sliding backwards; Harry had not even used a spell.

"Malfoy," he said in a desperate voice, "stupefy me, blast me, anything; just don't let me get to you or we will both regret it."

The Slytherin's features hardened in concentration, but all he managed to do was take another step forward.

"I can't," Malfoy admitted and he actually looked slightly afraid.

Harry felt as if his whole body had been ripped from his control and he moved so they were nose-to-nose. He wanted to flare out his wings and show how strong he was; he wanted to sweep Malfoy into his arms; and it was so hard not to.

"If you get me pregnant, Potter," the Slytherin hissed at him in no more than a whisper, "I'll do worse than Cruciatus."

They were millimetres apart now and the pull between them was almost painful. Harry heard the sound of someone casting the stupefy hex and his wings almost flared in response, but for one moment he managed to claw onto his self-control. It only took a fraction of a second before it was too late and he felt the blast hit him from the side. Eternally grateful to whoever had acted, Harry slid into unconsciousness.

End of Chapter 5