Deny Thy Father

Chapter 1: Deny Thy Father

Draco had always known he was good looking. By the time he was seven years old he'd developed a huge ego and a sense of vanity that had no rivals.

It was only natural he was the first person to notice when his looks started to subtly change.

His eyes shined with an inner light that captivated people from across the room and his skin was absolutely perfect. His hair had gone through the least amount of change, growing shinier and virtually impossible to mess up even without his gel. He looked frail at a casual glance, like the kind of person you'd want to protect, but upon closer inspection one could see the finely defined muscle that rippled under his flesh.

To sum it up, Draco Malfoy was beautiful.

Lost in his reflection, he was startled by the discreet knock on his door and couldn't stop himself from doing a double take as his mother entered the room.

"Ma petite libellule," she said sadly, "there's something I need to tell you, honey. But do not tell your father or there will be grave consequences."

Draco turned and walked to his lavish, king-sized, silk covered bed and sat down - hard. "Mother?" he said, shocked at her emotional words. The last time she'd called him her 'little dragonfly' - her favorite pet name for him - he'd been six years old.

She smiled, despair plainly written over her features, "I love you Draco, but I hate Lucius. I hate him with almost all of my being."

Draco had known his parents didn't get along but to hear his mother state it so plainly...

"Draco I've been keeping a terrible secret from you."

"Does it... Does it have something to do with father?" he managed to ask, eyes wide.

"I... Draco, Lucius isn't your father."

Draco's eyes grew even wider, and his already pale skin became all but translucent. "M - mother," he gasped, "he... are you?"

"I am your mother Draco, and you are the son of the only man I ever loved. The only man I ever will love, but he's dead now - Lucius killed him."

Draco nodded mutely. Lucius hadn't been much of a father really, and all he was really in shock over was the fact that he wasn't a Malfoy. He didn't have to comply with the stupid rules his father had laid out, didn't have to follow the twelve step Malfoy program.

He was... free, in a sense. Without the burden of the Malfoy name he was merely a talented, attractive young bastard son. Sure, he was bound to lose his inheritance, but as the thoughts of all he could do now struck him it didn't seem to matter anymore.

"Draco? Draco there's something else I need to tell you."

He turned his attention back to his mother and nodded for her to continue.

Clearing her throat Narcissa Malfoy moved closer the son she'd left to Lucius for eleven years and took one of his hands gently in hers. It was the first meaningful contact they'd had since Lucius had dragged a six year old Draco kicking and screaming from his mother's side.

"Mon précieux fils, j'aime toi. You are the son of my true love, my soul mate. And he... he... Draco, you're half Veela. I was Rowan's mate, and you are our son."

Hyperventilating was a new experience for Draco. He'd always took pains to avoid such an unflattering situation; Lucius had trained it out of him.

And yet, here he was gasping for air as his mother clutched his hand and frantically told him to calm down.

He was half-Veela. Well that explained rather a lot, didn't it?

"Draco!" Slapping him hard across the face Narcissa attempted to shock her son out of his panic attack.

'M- mother," he stuttered, clutching his injured cheek and staring at her, "what if I bruise?"

His mother, reassured nothing about her son had changed, smiled and patted him happily on his uninjured cheek. "Oh don't worry darling, I didn't hit you that hard."

He frowned at her levity but forgave her anyway.

Narcissa, seeing her son had calmed down somewhat, decided it was time to cause another bout of hysterics. "Draco, what do you know about Veela?"

"Hmm... They're extremely attractive - don't give me that look mother, it's true - they have 'Veela Allure' which can cause even the most powerful wizard's to submit to them, and they can transform into horrific bird-thingys."

"Bird-thingys? Very scientific Draco."

"Oh mother, leave science to the muggles who invented it."

His mother laughed softly. "Unfortunately that's not all there is to being a Veela."

"Oh?"

"Yes, you also... well, that is to say male Veela also... I... Draco you..."

Draco raised an eyebrow. "Mother, just spit it out already. It's very unbecoming for a lady to stutter."

Narcissa sighed. Better Draco hear it from her now then for him to go off to Hogwarts this year and find out there, unprepared. "Draco, male Veela mate for life."

"What? As in the first person I have - well at this point it'd be had sex with, wouldn't it? - is my mate?"

"Doesn't work like that sweetie. You see male Veela hit their puberty when they turn sixteen. When you see your mate you'll find yourself captivated by their every move, every word they say, and knowing the type of man your father was you'll also be very possessive and jealous."

"So Veela mating has nothing to do with sex then?"

"Oh heavens Draco!" Narcissa cried, flinging her head back and laughing, "You should have seen your father and I when we were young. Anywhere, anyplace, anytime!"

Draco blanched. While he rather liked the new Narcissa he didn't need to know about her sex life.

She calmed down, took a look at his face, and started laughing again. "Draco," she managed to pant out, "Draco I was just kidding." Well no, she thought as she watched Draco return to his usual color, I wasn't but you don't need to know how or where you were conceived.

"So does Veela mating have anything to do with sex?"

Narcissa nodded her head. "Yes, to fully complete the bond between a Veela and its mate they must have sex. Draco, once you find your mate you must complete the bond as soon as possible. The longer you go without your mate the more depressed you become, and any harsh words from your mate will bring you to your knees. I only hope for your sake that your mate is kind to you."

"And how will I know who my mate is?" Draco asked, frowning slightly at the thought of anyone being able to bring him to his knees.

"You'll know," Narcissa answered, eyes shining in sadness and pride, "I'm told that the sight of them will take your breathe away, and to hear their voice is to hear what heaven must sound like. Their scent will be all encompassing to you, and when they touch you you'll be lost... and at the same time... saved." The last word was said with such reverence, such absolute longing that Draco felt his eyes mist.

Narcissa saw this and smiled at her son. "Don't worry mon coeur, as long as I have you I'll live on." Narcissa lent over to her son and did something she hadn't done since he was four years old, something Draco couldn't ever remember her doing for him before.

Narcissa hugged her son.

XoX

Harry Potter sat in the kitchen of the Burrow and waited.

It was July thirtieth, the eve of his seventeenth birthday, and he watched his beat up watch with baited breath.

In the magical world seventeen was the age of majority and Harry knew that tonight, once the clock chimed the witching hour, he'd receive his full inheritance. Hermione and Ron had been willing to wait up with him, but he'd told them to go to bed. There were some things he needed to be alone to do.

He looked down at his watch again. The digital numbers glared a bright, Avada Kedavra green in the dim kitchen and he smiled as he remembered the confusion the watch had caused Ron.

You mean the numbers just change and it doesn't use magic?

Hermione and Ron were finally together and, while Harry was undeniably happy for his two best friends, he couldn't help but feel a bit jealous. Sometimes he felt like it wasn't fair, Ron and Hermione finding each other while he, who had suffered so much more, was left alone and loveless. Not that he would deny his friends that happiness they caused each other, far from it, he wished them well and when they'd approached him earlier this summer to tell him of their engagement and subsequently receive his blessing he's been overjoyed.

And yet sometimes he couldn't help but wonder what I might be like to have someone just for him. Someone he could trust with everything he was and everything he would become.

A shrill beeping broke through his thoughts and he looked down at his watch once again, smiling. It was now officially July thirty-first, Harry Potter was seventeen years old.

With a small popping sound a golden key appeared on the table and as Harry reached for it he felt something bubbling up inside him.

Pain.

An intense pain that started at his stomach and gradually worked its way up to his head. His eyes burned and he broke in a cold sweat, beginning to convulse. He fell to the floor with a resounding thud. Screaming he clutched his forehead, which felt like a hot spike was being driven through it.

Ron and Hermione came hurdling down the stairs and gasped as the saw Harry's pain wracked body lying twitching on the ground.

Harry held onto consciousness long enough to gasp out two words.

"Help me."

XoX

Narcissa had made it halfway down the hall of Draco's private wing before a blood-curdling scream stopped her in her tracks. Shit, she thought, breaking out of character for a moment, I'd forgotten.

Spinning around she ran was fast as her ninety-galleon heels would let her and flung the heavy doors to her son's room open. Draco lay in a trembling ball on the floor of his room, screaming and clenching his fists.

Narcissa grabbed her son and held him close, soothing him and waiting for the convulsions that ran through his delicate body to stop. Taking a deep breath Narcissa began to sing softly, a lullaby just for him;

"Swete sone, reu on me (Sweet son, have pity on me)

And breste out of thy bondes (and break out of your bonds)

For me thinket that I see (for I think I see)

Thoru Bothen thin bondes (through both your hands)

Nailes driven into the tree (nails have been driven into the tree)

So reufuliche thu honges (so painfully you hang there)

Now is betre that I flee (it would be better if I fled now)

And lett alle these londes (and abandoned all these lands)

Swete sone, thy faire face (Sweet son, your beautiful face)

Droppet all on blode (is dripping with blood)

And thy body downward (and your body beneath)

Is bounded to the rode (is bound to the cross)

How may thy modress hert (how will your mother's heart)

Tholen so swete fode (endure, such a sweet child)

That blessed was of alle born (that was born most blessed of all)

And best of alle gode (and was the most goodly of all)

How may thy modress hert (how will you mother's heart)

Tholen so swete fode (endure, such a sweet child)

That blessed was of alle born (that was born most blessed of all)

And best of alle gode (and was the most goodly of all)

Swete sone, reu on me (Sweet son, have pity on me)

And bring me out of this live (and deliver me from this life)

For me thinket that I see (for I think I see)

Thy deth, it neyhet swathe (your death approaches quickly)

Thy feet nailed to the tree (your feet have been nailed to the tree)

Now may I no more thrive (now I may never prosper)

For this werld withouten thee (for without you, all of this world)

Ne shall me maken blithe" (can never make me happy)

Narcissa's song faded into silence and Draco lay motionless in his mother's arms. Picking him up as best she could Narcissa dragged him to his bed and lay him to rest.

How could I have forgotten? she thought, sitting on the side of Draco's bed and waiting for him to wake, How could I have forgotten what the beginning of the bond feels like?

She remembered her own seventeenth birthday, her body shivering and collapsing, and the screams that tore her throat raw. And when she awoke... She got up and walked to Draco's mirror, removing the concealing charms as she went.

On a regular day she would have seen a cold, posh woman staring regally back at her, but now without the charms to hide what Rowan had shared with her she saw a woman, still posh but no longer cold. Her eyes showed worry now, but buried in them was also happiness - a joy in life that Narcissa Malfoy had never experienced but Narcissa Black knew well.

Sighing she turned to her son again and replaced the charms. Rowan had been a subtle person, leaving his mark of ownership in her soul instead of declaring it on her body, but Draco... Draco was by no means subtle when it came to marking his territory and she only hoped that whomever woke up tomorrow would deal with the changes well.

Of course, the start of the bond could only mean one thing. Draco's mate had turned seventeen today and Draco had already met them.

It was almost too convenient.

XoX

Harry woke to the sound of Ron and Hermione fighting.

"We have to inform Professor Dumbledore!" Hermione was yelling, obviously at her wit's end.

"Hermione!" Ron cried, equally exasperated, "Don't you think we should at lest wait until Harry wakes up?"

Groaning Harry sat up and said, "I'm awake. What happened?"

Hermione and Ron turned to him and gasped.

"Merlin Harry!" Ron cried, mouth agape, "What happened to you eye?"

Harry grumbled and got out of bed. Walking to the mirror Ron had recently acquired he leaned in and examined his eyes. His right eye was normal, green and vibrant as ever, but the other... the other eye was silver-gray and Harry had to poke himself in the eye a couple of times before he believed it was really his eye.

Hermione rushed over and handed him his glasses, putting them on he suddenly had to close his silver eye, it hurt to much to look through his glasses with it there.

"What happened?" he repeated, gesturing to his eye.

Hermione shook her head mutely, gazing at the steely eye warily.

Sighing, Ron took it upon himself to explain to Harry, "Well mate, we don't really know. One moment you were downstairs waiting for your inheritance and we were upstairs waiting for you, and the next you were screaming bloody murder. When we got downstairs you passed out."

Hermione, breaking out of her daze nodded along. "Right, now don't you think we should tell the Headmaster, Harry?"

Harry, once again looking at his new eye nodded. Even if he didn't get along with Dumbledore as well as he used too, this was too weird to ignore. "Sure, we can floo him as soon as I get changed," she said, reaching for the hem of his oversized shirt and pulling it off. He turned to his trunk, subsequently turning his back to his friends, and heard them gasp loudly behind him.

"Oh my Gods!" Ron cried, pointing in horror at his right shoulder.

Harry frowned slightly, when he'd first gotten the stag tattoo he'd shown his friends right away. It was something he was proud of, designed by Sirius - well actually, when he'd gone through Sirius' things the year after he died he'd found it scribbled in the margin of a potions essay from his fifth year - it was precious to him as it represented both his father and godfather.

"What Ron?" he asked, puzzled by the red-head's reaction.

"Look in the mirror," Hermione said quietly.

Turning Harry looked at his bare right shoulder and gasped, instead of the shimmering stag he now had a tattoo of a ghostly thestral.

XoX

When Draco woke up the first thing he saw was his mother's concerned face as she leaned over him.

"Oh Draco," she said sadly, "I'm sorry I didn't tell you about this. I didn't think it would happen just minutes after I left."

Draco smiled reassuringly at his mother, he faintly remembered a song breaking through equally mixed pain and joy he'd felt. The joy still lingered, but the pain was gone. "Mother," he said calmly, "mother it's alright. I'm fine, I'm better then fine. I feel..."

His mother smiled softly at him and stroked his left cheek fondly. "There's something you need to see."

Narcissa pulled out her wand and conjured a handheld mirror. She held it out to her son and he gasped, staring at the vibrant green eye that looked back at him. "My eye..." he breathed, "how did this happen?"

Narcissa smiled at him. "That's not your eye my sweet, that's the eye of your mate. I'd wager that they now have one of yours now too. It's a mark, a reminder to all that they're your mate and your alone."

Draco, for a reason he couldn't yet name, smiled at this. "Mine," he said, stroking around his eye, "all mine."