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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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Chapter Twenty-Two—The Fulfillment of Certain Fears

            “They can’t do this to you, Harry.” Hermione looked as enormously satisfied as she only did when she’d come up with some new way of challenging the Ministry. “I spent all afternoon looking through the laws. They can’t exclude an Auror from serving in the ranks unless they have a condition that makes them actively dangerous to someone else, the way a werewolf might be.” The iron tone in Hermione’s voice said she would challenge that, too, soon enough. “The worst Veela allure could do is make people look like fools. And even then, they’ve made exceptions for some of the people who have relatives on the Wizengamot.”

            “But how does that help me?” Harry propped his chin in his hands. He was sitting with Hermione on the cliff where he and Draco had gone for their lunch. Draco had flown with him there and then even agreed to leave them alone, although Harry could see him stalking vigilantly around at the edge of the meadow. “I don’t have any relatives on the Wizengamot.”

            Hermione looked at him patiently. “Well?” Harry prodded again, when a few moments had passed in silence.

            “By making exceptions, they’ve already weakened those laws that Klein tried to tell you were so firm,” Hermione explained. “So we can make the case that they should make exceptions for you, too.”

            Harry nodded, seeing what she was getting at. “The kind of exception they would probably make for me anyway since I’m the Boy-Who-Lived.”

            “Right,” said Hermione. “And I don’t think that should happen, I think everyone should be treated equally, but since they won’t, I’ll use that against them to expose the flaws in their stupid system.”

            Harry grinned. He had the feeling that, if those old pure-bloods could have any idea of how fierce Hermione-of-the-future was going to be, they would have gone ahead and already revamped the Ministry to be fairer. It would save their descendants a lot of trouble in the end.

            “Besides,” Hermione added, and shook out a long scroll that she’d been holding folded up like an accordion, “there’s basically been lots of part-Veela Aurors in the ranks. Klein probably couldn’t find them because he was looking for ones with wings and visible allure and the like. But there have been lots of people like Fleur, who are just less obvious.”

            Harry grinned wider. “And probably no one objected to their allure or told them they couldn’t come along on missions, did they?”

            Hermione rolled her eyes. “No. Invited them, if anything.”

            Harry just nodded. He knew Hermione thought Fleur was ridiculous for sometimes charming people out of their prejudice instead of talking to them and making them think about it, the way Hermione would have, but after being in the school, Harry could understand. If Fleur had any contact with Veela like his professors, she probably thought of herself as part of a separate culture, a separate people, and saw no need to hold back on charming enemies when the alternative was being in a difficult situation.

            “So you can still be part of the Aurors,” said Hermione briskly, and chased a piece of hair out of her mouth as the wind began to pick up. “The question is what strategy we should use to attack them. What do you think would be best?”

            “What? Hermione, you know more about strategy than I do. So does Ron.”

            “But you’re the one who’s going to have to get up and make speeches, maybe, or talk to Aurors, or face the Wizengamot, depending on what we decide. I’m not one of those Healers who think they can make decisions without consulting you, Harry.”

            Harry reached out and squeezed her hand, hard. Hermione gave him a smug smile, and then waited. Harry finally said, “Why don’t you describe some of the strategies to me, and I can tell you which one I like?”

            Hermione nodded. “Okay. In a direct legal confrontation, we go right to the Wizengamot and tell the Aurors to piss off.” Harry had to grin. “Or we could link this to the campaigns that I already have going for rights for werewolves and house-elves. Just add Veela to it. That’s the more political and longer-term one. Or we could go directly to your adoring public and ask them whether it’s fair that Harry Potter is prevented from being an Auror.”

            Harry flinched and brought his wings forwards before he thought about it. He knew from the way Draco immediately lifted his head that he’d felt that. “I’m sorry, Hermione,” Harry whispered. “I can’t do that. I can’t…”

            “It’s all right,” Hermione said, although she looked a little startled. She leaned forwards and patted Harry’s foot. “Sorry. I forgot how much you hate your fame. I thought we could make it work for us for once.”

            “If Harry doesn’t want to use his fame, he won’t have to.”

            Harry leaned back so he could feel Draco’s warm legs behind him, and saw Draco shift his wings forwards at the same moment, so that their feathers touched and intertwined, Harry’s primaries fitting into the spaces between Draco’s and vice versa. Hermione only shook her head as if she didn’t understand how special what was happening in front of her was. “I never said he had to. Only that it was a step we could take.”

            “Harry doesn’t have to do anything he doesn’t want to do. He never will again.”

            Harry closed his eyes and threw his head back. Draco stirred one of his wings out of their perfect joining to stroke the edges of his feathers along Harry’s throat. That almost seemed to knead the croon out of Harry’s skin, streaming up towards and touching Draco’s face. Draco rubbed his cheek against Harry’s then, and Harry heard the sensation of Hermione clearing her throat, and probably looking politely away.

            “He may have to do a few things he doesn’t want, if he’s going to be an Auror again.”

            Draco made a complicated noise, a squeak and a croon and a growl, and crouched down so that his wings spread on and around Harry and shielded him from Hermione’s view, like a tent. Harry reached up and touched a few of the feathers, awed. Draco had never done something like this before out of anger. He thought it was that, rather than jealousy.

            “He doesn’t have to do anything he doesn’t want to.”

            “I wouldn’t make him—”

            “You were trying to persuade him to appeal to his fans!”

            It sounded like Draco was marshaling a good shriek of his own. Harry reached up and gently moved aside a cloud of feathers so that he could see over the top of the wings and meet Hermione’s eyes.

            Hermione looked both exasperated and indulgent. Harry had seen her look the same way when the house-elves wouldn’t listen to her as she explained the benefits of freedom. At least she was tolerant of all those foibles that she knew were part of creature heritage.

            “I’m listening,” said Hermione. “But I do think that it’s a matter of Harry picking what appeals to him the most. Or appalls him the least,” she added, after another look at Harry’s face. “If it’s not his fans, that’s fine. But it’ll need to be the Wizengamot or working with my campaign.”

            “And what if he doesn’t want to be an Auror again at all?”

            “Well, I was under the impression that he did,” Hermione said, after a long, blank moment in which Harry could almost feel her bafflement lapping against him like waves. “Otherwise, I don’t understand why I’m here at all.”

            “You can give him strategies, in case he decides that’s what he wants.” Draco leaned forwards and nuzzled Harry again, his chin heavy on his shoulder. “But I do think we need to talk about why he has to work with people who are prejudiced against him for something he can’t help. And we need to talk about him going into danger and leaving a helpless mate behind.”

            It took Harry a moment to realize that Draco was really talking about himself. He snorted and said, “Do you think that I’ll believe that for one moment? You’re not helpless. You’ve already proved it.” He tugged a little on one of Draco’s wings by way of a demonstration.

            “I would be helpless if you died and left me behind.”

            Harry blinked in surprise. Draco had never mentioned that before, and it wasn’t something they had covered in Testig’s class, or even in the history one when they were still only talking about mates and romance. “What?”

            “I would be helpless,” said Draco flatly, and turned so that he was looking into Harry’s eyes. “Paralyzed with grief, unable to take care of myself. Other Veela are always very understanding and try to help someone whose mate has died, but it’s only a fifty percent chance or so that I would ever recover.”

            “That’s—” Harry stopped. He wanted to say that he hadn’t known that, but he knew Draco knew that very well. He finally said, “You didn’t mention that when I was talking about being an Auror.”

            “I thought they would probably deny you, so I wouldn’t need to.”

            Harry covered his face with one hand and groaned a little. “Draco, that’s not a reason not to bring something up.”

            “Why? I was avoiding anger and conflict. Which is something Veela mates want to do. Even you want to do that with me, even if you want to anger a lot of other people.” Draco’s wings floated upwards a little, but then settled back down again, like huge palm fronds.

            Harry opened his mouth to speak, but Hermione intervened. “Even if he never becomes an Auror again, Harry should fight for the right of Veela to be Aurors. It would benefit other people.”

            “Harry’s spent his life fighting for other people and saving them and doing things for them they won’t do for themselves.” Draco’s voice was poison-tipped. “I think he should be allowed to relax for once.”

            “If he intended to relax, he wouldn’t have called on me.”

            “That was before I knew what was going to happen to Draco if I died.” Harry felt his feathers bristling on the back of his neck, and tried to calm them down. When would Draco have told me? When I was actually on the verge of getting back into the Aurors? “I don’t know if I can be an Auror anymore, Hermione.”

            “That isn’t the same as saying you don’t want to be.”

            Harry grimaced. It seemed a little unfair that he had two people in his life who would pick up on subtle nuances like that. “But I have to do lots of things I don’t want to. I can’t get everything I want.”

            “You shouldn’t have options taken away from you because of prejudice! Or just because someone else needs you.” Hermione glared at Draco. “Harry’s never even come close to being killed, I hope you know, Malfoy.”

            Harry winced. “That’s not true…”

            “What? I know you were in hospital last year, but you told me that was because the Healers wanted to make sure you didn’t have any side-effects from a curse that hit you. Not because you were actually in danger.”

            “And side-effects aren’t a danger?” Draco muttered, but luckily, he muttered it to the back of Harry’s neck. Harry appreciated his efforts to keep the peace, doomed though they probably were.

            “They were looking for that, yes,” Harry said. “They were just also, um, making sure that my intestines were all tucked back in the right order.”

            Draco’s hands tightened around Harry, but more to the point, his wings did, forming a pearly cocoon that meant Harry couldn’t see Hermione anymore and could hardly hear her. Her betrayal came through clearly, though, and Harry knew what the words would be whether or not he could hear them. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

            “Why didn’t Draco tell me that he would die without me?” Harry retorted, tilting his head back until he could meet and hold Draco’s eyes. He thought vaguely that he would have found the position uncomfortable before he became a Veela, but that was such a small concern next to what he felt now that he didn’t care much. “I was saving the information for when it came up. Like he was.”

            “You were in a lot more danger than I ever knew, then.” Hermione sounded a little calmer, and clearer. She must have moved around to the side so she could project her words through the gap where Draco’s wings parted a little. “I wish I’d known.”

            Harry sighed. “What would you have done, though, Hermione? You’re the one who wants everyone to be treated equally. I couldn’t be exempted from dangerous cases just because I was Harry bloody Potter. Would you have told them I shouldn’t face my share of curses and Dark wizards?”

            “You survived.” Draco was the one to speak next, nuzzling his way into Harry’s neck again. His wings trembled once, then drew back so Harry could see Hermione standing next to him. Harry blinked a little in the sudden dazzling inflow of light. “You survived, and you’ll never have to do anything like that again.”

            “Why not?” Harry asked, and subjected Draco to a glittering smile when he hesitated. “Why not, Draco?”

            “Because you’re not an Auror now.” Draco answered the question slowly, as if looking for traps in it. “And I’ll make sure that you never face danger again.”

            Harry sighed. “Not even you can stop every Dark wizard who might think to gain glory by killing me, or every aspiring duelist who thinks they have to defeat me to be a real professional, or everybody who has a grudge against me from the war. I know what you mean about being depressed if I die, so I’ll try to stay safe. But I can’t live in the shelter of your wings. Just like I couldn’t when I was an Auror.”

            “There’s your false equivalence, again.” Hermione was glaring at him, one finger tapping on the thick roll of papers she was currently carrying. “It’s a lot different to live with ordinary danger than it is being an Auror.”

            Harry rolled his eyes. “But for me, ordinary danger includes things like people trying to kill me. So I might as well be an Auror because at least that way, I have the skills and the partners to protect me.”

            “You’re justifying being an Auror because it might save your life?”

            Harry turned back to face Draco. “It already has. There are skills I learned, like mental flexibility, that helped me in the duel with Testig.”

            “She wasn’t trying to kill you—”

            “You took it as seriously as though she would.” Harry tapped his fingers on Draco’s hand like Hermione was doing with her hand on the paper, and Draco started. Harry blinked down and found that his nails had become claws when he wasn’t looking. “And see?” Harry added, because he thought this was the right time to do it. “There are people trying to hurt me even when I’m really not in the Aurors at the moment!”

            “It’s not the same kind of danger.” Draco’s voice was quiet and firm, much more so than Harry had thought it would be when Harry was offering him that kind of threat, or provocation. “You know it’s not, Harry. I want you to stop reacting to our concern as if it’s a threat, itself, and think about this.”

            Harry closed his eyes. “I know what I’ve always thought,” he said tightly. “I’ve dreamed of being an Auror since my fifth year at Hogwarts—”

            “I thought you said that to Professor McGonagall when she asked, but you didn’t have a plan before that.”

            Harry scowled at Hermione. Sometimes it was very inconvenient to have someone around who’d known him since he was eleven. “I might not have had an idea then. But I’m an Auror now. You’re asking me to give up part of my identity because of something else that I never thought would happen.”

            Draco said nothing, but let his head fall so that his nose was resting in Harry’s feathers. Harry closed his eyes and sighed. Draco was wonderful, and he didn’t want to give him up.

            But he didn’t want to give up his Auror career, either. He didn’t want to give up anything else. Merlin knew that with his fame and so on, he often couldn’t have much privacy. And he couldn’t change the past and get his parents back. Why couldn’t he have both Draco and a career in the Aurors?

            “We’ll discuss this later, when I come back,” said Hermione, her voice gentle. She reached out and squeezed Harry’s wrist once, then stroked his fingers. Harry became aware that his claws had turned back into nails at some point. “I agree it’s not fair, but I don’t know what else to do about it right now. And I think you need to have a talk with your mate.”

            Harry opened his eyes in time to see her smile at him before she turned away and Apparated. Harry looked back at Draco again, but he kept his head low and avoided Harry’s gaze.

            “I think we really do need to talk,” said Harry grimly. When Draco didn’t move, Harry got his wings free and escorted Draco along the cliff edge until he had to spread his wings and fly or fall.

            Draco did follow him back to the school. But he was silent as Harry took them back to Draco’s rooms—because he thought the confrontation might be easier on Draco’s own ground—and shut the door behind them.

            “Now,” said Harry, standing in front of the door with his wings spread. “I want to know what else you haven’t told me about being a Veela.”

            Draco finally looked up again, although even then his glance was fleeting. “There’s a lot,” he said.

            “I have time.”

            And finally, Draco began to speak, and Harry to listen.

*
            SP777: No.
            SickPuppy: Thanks! I’m afraid this next chapter will also be a little more serious, but eventually there will be more Veela sex.
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