Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Fairest Creatures	By : Lomonaaeren Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 22177 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 4
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I am making no money from this story.

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Thanks for all the reviews!
Chapter Two—The School
            “I think your wings are fully grown in,” said Healer Kilhoun, standing behind Harry as he faced a mirror and nodding her approval.
            Harry hoped she was right. The wings were huge, rising into an arch above his shoulder blades that Harry supposed some people could have called graceful but which were mostly exhausting, to him. He had to keep them a little raised, or the bottom feathers would drag on the floor.
            The feathers were all silver, and shone with a faint light that Harry supposed some people would also call moonshine, or starglow, or something. Some people had nothing better to do than come up with stupid names for other people’s problems.
            “I think they have another few centimeters to extend,” said Healer Sedon, popping up on the other side of the mirror. It wasn’t attached to a wall, but floated free in the air, hung by magic, because the Healers had opinions about reflections and how they would affect a patient’s recovery. Harry had no opinion, mostly because he thought all of the ones he’d heard were as stupid as whether the wings were beautiful. “We should wait to send him. The Veela won’t be able to teach him anything until his wings are fully grown in.”
            “If you think for one minute that I’ll listen to the opinion of anyone taught by that relentless fool Borzoi—”
            They drifted off into another bickering session. Harry sighed and turned to consult Healer Veraz. Other than his insistence on the idea that sugar had played some part in the botched Veela ritual, Healer Veraz seemed to be the sanest one there.
            “Why are there these little streaks of blue in my wings?” Harry pointed to the faint lines of color he could see tracing across his feathers, arching up to follow the upper curve of the wings.
            “Hmm?” Veraz leaned close enough to see them, then shrugged. “Interesting. I don’t know exactly. Veela use those colors to define some sort of hierarchy among themselves, but they don’t like to talk about it. The only Veela I’ve ever interviewed are the transformed ones, like you, and I haven’t seen someone with cobalt veins before.”
            “Cerulean,” said Kilhoun abruptly, breaking off her argument with Sedon to turn around and frown incredulously at Veraz. “They may look darker to you because of the contrast with the pale feathers, but those stripes are clearly cerulean.”
            “Cobalt!” Veraz flared up, suddenly looking as crazy as the rest of them.
            “Cerulean!”
            And off they went, while Harry was shifting the wings around and trying to make them a comfortable load to balance on his shoulders. Healer Sedon came up beside him and patted his collarbone; Harry had discovered the wings were so sensitive he could hardly bear for anyone to touch them. Harry looked at him in silent pleading.
            “Don’t mind them,” Healer Sedon said firmly. “What’s important is what the Veela will tell you when you get to the school. They’re the ones who have the most information.” He leaned closer to whisper into Harry’s ear. “And you also shouldn’t mind them because those stripes are clearly azure.”
*
            Harry had wanted to faint with relief when he discovered Ron was one of the three Aurors who would escort him into the school. It had to be by Side-Along Apparition, because Harry’s wings were too big to go through a Floo connection and apparently the Veela didn’t permit brooms to land or Portkeys to be made to take anyone there.
            “What are they afraid of?” Harry complained as he took Ron’s arm in the secluded alley outside the Ministry. “That someone might come and steal away one of their students?”
            “Apparently, that’s exactly what it is,” said Ron, and sighed a little when he saw the look Harry was giving him. “Look, most of the students at that school are full Veela, right? Female Veela like the one who cursed you.”
            Harry scowled. “She is being charged with that?” Hermione had been keeping him informed of the status of the investigation, and apparently there was some controversy over charging the Veela because she had been exercising her “natural talents.”
            “Of course she is,” said Ron fiercely. “Anyway. You saw how people got around Fleur, and she’s only a part-Veela. Until their students are in full control of their powers, apparently the people at this school are really insistent about keeping full humans away from them.”
            Harry looked Ron up and down for a second.
            Ron winked. “Special duty.” Then he took Harry’s arm in a firm hold, and they whirled around and vanished.
            They did several small Apparition hops, and by the time they came out of the last one, Harry’s stomach was rebelling. The other two Aurors were still with them, and Harry wiped his mouth as he considered them. One, a tall woman he didn’t know, had the same silvery sheen to her hair that Fleur did, so he supposed she was in no danger from the allure here. The other had a badge pinned to his chest that Harry squinted at.
            SPECIAL VEELA LIAISON, it said in small capital letters.
            Harry nodded and turned to face the building in front of him.
            The school spread out over what seemed to be kilometers of ground, although Harry had no idea how big it really was; it was also made of white marble that glowed softly in the sunlight, and the glow seemed to create a shimmering aura that probably made it look bigger than reality. It was arranged like a Greek temple, he thought, with lots of white columns surrounding walks open to the wind, and steps up to huge doors, and here and there statues. But Harry didn’t think that many Greek temples had winged statues.
            As Harry squinted through the white haze, the large doors at the top of the major set of stairs folded back instead of swinging back. Two people came down the steps and crossed the almost unreal green grass towards them.
            “Look at her.” Ron’s voice was reverent, and his hold on Harry’s arm had increased.
            “Do control yourself, Auror Weasley,” said the silver-haired woman in a bored tone. She glanced at Harry and suddenly smiled, so bright and sympathetic that Harry found himself smiling back before he thought about it. “Auror Wendy Noriend. It gets boring when people are constantly fluttering over you, doesn’t it?”
            Harry could only nod. He hadn’t had anyone do that because of the allure yet—as far as he knew, he didn’t have it or it hadn’t developed yet—but plenty of people had acted like that on just seeing his face.
            “This is Special Veela Liaison Hugh Kerrison,” said Noriend, with an inclination of her head at the other Auror. “We thought we’d come along to ease you into the school. The Veela here tend not to explain as much as they need to for new students.” She gave a quick glance at Ron.
            And make sure certain people behave themselves, Harry thought, as he looked back at the people coming towards them. One of them was indeed a Veela woman, although in human form, with such delicately pretty features that Harry wasn’t surprised Ron was staring dreamily at her.
            The other had to be a man, because he had wings like Harry. But he had pale hair, so maybe he had inherited the Veela tendency or something. He didn’t wear a shirt at all, while Harry had cut holes in his Auror robes so that his wings could stick through. Harry still wanted to be an Auror more than he wanted to be a Veela, damn it.
            The woman moved in front of the man as they came closer, and looked around at everyone as if evaluating their fitness to tread on the sacred grounds of the school or something. Then she nodded. “My name is Miranda Grunnell,” she said, with an accent to her voice that Harry didn’t think was French. “And this is my associate, the only transformed man currently in the school, Draco Malfoy.”
            Harry stared. Malfoy had moved up beside Grunnell and was staring back at Harry. He had wings, yes, and hair that seemed to have got paler—whiter—since Harry had seen him last, but his face was still the same. Harry didn’t know how he could ever have mistaken him for anything but Malfoy.
            “No,” Harry announced.
            Grunnell, who had started speaking again, stopped and turned to look at him. She had a faint bar of color on her own wings as they appeared then, Harry saw, almost pure silver. She extended them with a rustling sound, and the shadow of a beak appeared on her face. “Excuse me,” she said.
            Harry had probably done something that pissed her off if she looked on the brink of transforming. He had probably violated some ancient Veela code of conduct that had existed since the beginning of time. He was probably in danger of having fireballs thrown at him.
            He didn’t bloody care.
            “I refuse to be in the same room as a Death Eater,” Harry said calmly. “Especially one who taunted me and my friends for years, spread rumors about me to the press, tried to torture me, and tried to get me expelled and killed. No.” He turned back to Ron. “I know the Healers said something about getting my wings cut off and taking potions to suppress the Veela side of me. They didn’t take it seriously, but I’m about to. Take me home, please.”
            Ron, staring dreamily at Grunnell, didn’t hear him. Grunnell rustled her wings and said in a voice that had a rasping, screechy quality to it, “What are you talking about? Monsieur Malfoy is not a Death Eater.”
            Harry spun around. Malfoy wasn’t wearing a shirt. It ought to be easy enough to see. “Look—”
            He stopped. Malfoy’s pale arm was empty of a Dark Mark.
            For the first time, Harry met Malfoy’s eyes. He was giving Harry a smile that had nothing to do with friendliness. That probably violated the ancient Veela code of conduct, too, Harry thought numbly, but that didn’t make him feel better at the moment.
            “The transformation to a Veela changes you a lot,” Malfoy said calmly. “In particular, it removes disfigurations. You’ll find that you’re much handsomer than you were.” He leaned in and looked at the scar on Harry’s forehead, then away. “Well. I suppose not everyone can be as perfect as me.”
            “You’re forgetting your lessons, Monsieur Malfoy,” said Grunnell. She looked human again, other than the wings. She frowned at him, and Malfoy actually ducked his head as if abashed, which was one of the strangest things Harry had ever seen. “Veela have more to be proud of, which means we should be—” She paused.
            “More humble,” Malfoy muttered.
            “And when we are more humble, we attain…?” Grunnell trailed off and waited, flexing her wings a little when Malfoy stood there scowling at the ground. “Monsieur Malfoy.”
            “The perfection of our senses and souls that other mortals admire us for.” Malfoy was speaking the words now the way he used to speak answers in a class he wasn’t particularly interested in, like Care of Magical Creatures.
            Harry grinned for a second. It was wonderful to see Malfoy not able to get away with something, even if he had got away with being a Death Eater.
            Then Malfoy caught his eye, and scowled horribly at Harry, and whispered, “I wouldn’t laugh, Potter. This is the kind of schooling that you’re going to have.”
            Harry imagined being trapped in a school where he had to recite that kind of thing, while Veela like Grunnell nodded over him. He imagined being trapped in the school with Malfoy.
            He turned and snapped his fingers in front of Ron’s eyes, close enough that his best friend started and turned to look at him. “I want to go back to St. Mungo’s and cut my wings off and take those potions,” Harry said. He said it clearly, and he watched Ron, whose eyes didn’t slide back to Grunnell more than once during Harry’s sentence. “Are you listening, Ron? Right now.”
            “Don’t be ridiculous, Monsieur Potter. To have become a Veela is not a step backwards, but a passport to a different level of existence. You are not a monster and you are not a creature. You are a person with wings. A winged person.”
            Grunnell was trying to get his attention, and had already snatched Ron’s again. Harry turned to Auror Noriend. “I want out of this.”
            Auror Noriend sighed. “The potions are experimental, Auror Potter. You would suffer pain all your life from having your wings cut off. And the potions might not suppress your Veela magic, including the allure, if you have it.”
            “But you would run away from having to share a room with me,” said Malfoy, apparently to the air. “That’s the great Harry Potter courage. I see.”
            “I don’t give a shit about sharing a room with you,” Harry said, and Malfoy blinked and stared at Harry with his mouth open a little, as if no one had ever sworn in front of him before. “I just don’t want to be a bird like you.”
            “Monsieur Potter.” Grunnell stepped in front of Harry again and extended her arms. She had already mostly lost the feathers and the other things that made her look like a Veela, and now she was just a pretty human being. Harry hesitated, and she spoke rapidly. “I promise, you will not be made to do anything you don’t want to do.”
            “But what about going to class? And reciting platitudes like Malfoy had to? And getting along with him? And learning stupid things about Veela culture?”
            “They are not stupid,” said Grunnell weakly.
            Harry waited a second, then said, “But everything on that list is something I have to do, right?”
            Grunnell hesitated, and Harry shook his head and turned around. “No, thanks. I’ll take my chances with the potions.”
            “We can teach you how to hold your wings so they do not hurt your shoulders!”
            Harry cocked his head back over the curve of his wing, ignoring the way Malfoy snickered next to him. It wasn’t Harry’s fault that he couldn’t look over his shoulder like a normal person. It was the fault of the Veela who had cursed him, or possibly sugar’s fault. “But if my wings are gone, I won’t have to worry about that.”
            “We can teach you to suppress your allure.”
            “I don’t even know if I have it yet.”
            “We can teach you to live a calm and normal life.”
            “I had it until you intervened.”
            “Nothing about you was ever normal, Potter,” Malfoy interjected in a bored voice.
            Harry turned around, glaring, and Grunnell spoke swiftly. “We can keep you from being arrested by the Ministry.”
            “What?” Harry demanded. “Why would I be arrested if I left?”
            “Because you’re now registered as an untrained Veela,” said Grunnell. “You would be even if you removed your wings.” She made a face as she stared compellingly at Harry, and Harry supposed she was wondering why anyone would want to do such a thing. “You would still have the magic, and until we give you the statue that signifies you have passed all the courses at the School, you will be unregistered.”
            “So you’re going to force me to stay here?”
            “Most people find their time here a privilege.” Malfoy stuck his nose in the air.
            “You’ve got some bogeys,” Harry told him consideringly.
            Malfoy tried to brush at his nose unobtrusively, which was impossible. Grunnell, smiling for the first time, continued, “I promise that we won’t mistreat you, Monsieur Potter. Everyone here is either a student, a fully trained Veela, or someone who has enough Veela blood to resist the allure even if you have it. This is the most comfortable place you could be until you’re trained. Much more comfortable than with the Healers, I promise.”
            “No arguments about sugar?”
            Grunnell looked completely confused. “What?”
            “I suppose not,” said Harry, and sighed. “How long does the training usually take?”
            “A dedicated student can complete it in a month.”
            “How long has Malfoy been here?” Harry cocked a thumb at Malfoy, who had given up on brushing at his nose and was glaring at Harry.
            “Monsieur Malfoy is not a dedicated student.” Grunnell looked completely calm as she said that.
            Harry snickered at the outrage on Malfoy’s face, and nodded. “All right. Then I’ll stay here and undergo it.” He turned to Ron, said, “Good-bye, mate,” and then sighed as he noticed the way Ron was still staring at Grunnell. “Ron.”
            “Hmm? Did you say something?”
            “Yes. Tell Hermione not to worry about me, and that I should be—Ron.”
            “Hmmm?”
            Harry shook his head and looked at Noriend and Kerrison. “Will you make sure that he gets home safely? And that Solicitor Hermione Granger hears my message?”
            “We will.” Auror Noriend looked far too amused. She held out a hand, and a second later the Special Veela Liaison echoed her. “Good luck, Auror Potter. I hear it’s not too hard if your powers aren’t strong.”
            Harry grimaced. With his luck, they would be. “All right. Thanks again.” And he turned towards the school, with Grunnell immediately trying to tell him about the room he would get escorted to and how many classes he would have in a day.
            Harry glanced at Malfoy and shook his head when he saw the git’s glare. He didn’t think any nice rooms would be worth sharing space with Malfoy. He would just have to get through the classes as soon as possible.
            An owl came winging down and landed on Harry’s shoulder as he stepped into the cool, dark entrance hall at the front of the school. Harry opened the letter it held, a single sheet of paper.
            Dear Auror Potter,
            I almost forgot. Remind the Directrice to explain to you about the mate you’re likely to have.
            Healer Kilhoun.
            And you will be happy to know that the stripe on your wings is definitely cerulean.
*
Aelys_Althea: Thanks! I can promise this is definitely a non-serious story, despite what Malfoy wants, so more in keeping with the whimsical side of canon.
            SP777: And it’s the Veela story you wanted me to write.
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Fairest Creatures