Fairest Creatures | By : Lomonaaeren Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 22176 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 4 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I am making no money from this story. |
Title: Fairest Creatures
Disclaimer: J. K. Rowling and associates own these characters. I am writing this story for fun and not profit.
Pairing: Harry/Draco, one-sided Harry/others
Warnings: Creature fic (Veela), ridiculousness
Rating: R
Summary: Of course, Harry would be the only person in wizarding history to get turned into a Veela by a chain of coincidences and then compelled to attend Veela finishing school to learn about his new powers. And the only one of those who has to get instructed by Draco Malfoy, for that matter. Who does not look any better with wings.
Author’s Notes: I came up with this idea a little while ago and tried to get it to stop being ridiculous. It refused. In fact, it gathered more ridiculousness to itself. Therefore, I decided to write it before it got so ridiculous that it made my head explode. This will be updated on Sundays. The title is from William Shakespeare’s first sonnet: “From fairest creatures we desire increase,/ That thereby beauty’s rose might never die.”
Fairest Creatures
Chapter One—Fell Swoop
Harry lay on his stomach in the hospital bed and thought. If he had done certain things, he wouldn’t be here right now.
He went over them all in his head. He didn’t have much else to do. The Healers said he had to stay still until his wings finished growing in, and given that they were already huge and drooping things like palm fronds, obviously the Healers thought they might go on until they draped all over the floor.
*
First, he shouldn’t have had cornflakes with sugar for breakfast. The Healers had explained urgently that it was cornflakes with sugar that had caused all the trouble.
Apparently, small bits of the cornflakes had got lodged in Harry’s teeth. He knew that; he could remember it himself. He had been prodding at his teeth with his tongue throughout most of the morning as he wrote up a report on the previous case and then waited to be assigned another one. He had been trying to reach a particularly stubborn piece when the fire had flared and a garbled call for help had come through.
Harry had shot to his feet, recognizing Ron’s voice. He had only paused to ask where Ron was, and gone through the fire the minute he heard the name.
If the cornflakes hadn’t been distracting him, the Healers believed, he would have heard the word “Veela” and been more prepared.
Harry had tried to explain that he could resist Veela allure and so it wouldn’t matter if he heard it or not, because he didn’t have to take special precautions to be around Veela like most people. That was when the Healers had stopped and given him identical patient looks from every side of his bed.
They spoke a subtle language, but one Harry had learned to interpret through long experience. They meant “shut up, you’re not a Healer and don’t have our fancy training.”
*
Second, the sugar from the cornflakes had probably made his movements faster and more frenetic than they really needed to be when he emerged into the big, ancient, abandoned manor house. And the sharp movements had attracted the transformed Veela’s attention.
Harry interrupted at that point. “There were huge glowing runes on the floor, though. Blue glowing runes. Don’t they have something more to do with it?”
“If they were red, maybe,” said the Healer who had called herself Haleah Kilhoun. “But blue runes are harmless.”
Harry tried to argue that they were still huge glowing runes. In a circle. With big five-pointed stars connecting them.
“Nonsense,” said Kilhoun. She leaned over and aimed a finger between Harry’s eyes, which was a non-subtle part of the Healers’ language. “Five-pointed stars are also harmless, unless the runes are red. The notion that they are not is part of an extended and illogical prejudice against wizards who use five-pointed stars in ritual magic. If you knew…”
And she had gone on and on, until Harry resorted to nodding meekly, which the Healers would have accepted less well if they had known what that meant in his personal language.
So Harry ran through the runes, with the sugar making him move faster than normal, and the transformed Veela jerked her head around and screamed, and came floating off the floor, her huge wings beating so hard that Harry had to duck away from the wind that came with them. He stumbled straight into one of the stars.
“See?”
“No, that was still just coincidence,” Kilhoun had told him.
The Veela slashed out with one hand at him, one that bore both glinting claws and a fireball gathering mistily in the center of her palm. Harry whirled easily out of the way. Then the Veela threw the fireball.
Harry couldn’t duck that one, but he didn’t need to. He flicked his wand down and murmured the spell he had come up with a while ago and taught to several other Aurors. “Ignem edo!”
The shield that opened in front of him manifested as a pair of snapping jaws, and they snapped together around the fire and swallowed it. Harry grinned at the look on the Veela’s face, and then danced backwards among the runes, luring her away from the corner where he could see Ron huddled with the other people he’d come on this case with.
Stupid letting him out on a case with any other Aurors. Harry was the one who knew how to save and protect Ron’s arse. No one else.
The Veela landed in the middle of one of the stars—and Harry maintained that later, no matter what Healer Klhoun had said about prejudice towards five-pointed stars—and spread her wings. The star was big enough that her wingspan didn’t cross it.
But it did start glowing, and that was enough to make Harry cautious.
As it turned out, he chose to dive precisely the wrong way. Probably because of the sugar, the Healers insisted.
*
But regardless of why it happened, his third mistake was definitely the dive.
“She would have left you alone if you had stayed still,” Healer Kilhoun lectured him, with her finger pointed at the ceiling. Harry imitated her when she couldn’t see him, but it took half the fun out of things because she never looked around or even came close to catching him doing it. “Veela are birds. They’re much better at seeing objects in motion, and in transformed shape, they often use only one eye to do so. Like a bird. If you‘d held still, she would have found you less interesting, and it would have given one of the other Aurors a chance to come up behind her and stop her.”
“But that’s not the way it happened,” Harry said, and glanced pointedly at the huge wings drooping from his back.
Healer Kilhoun wasn’t going to be stopped by something like facts. “It’s the way it should have happened.”
“But it’s not the way it did.”
“But it’s the way it should,” said Healer Kilhoun, and Harry gave up on rationality with a sigh.
*
The dive had carried him into the center of another star crossed with a blue rune—Harry was sure that the runes were active and dangerous, but he hadn’t had many places to go, and he would only be there for a second—at the same moment as the Veela’s wings had spasmed and drooped and she had cast the light from the star she was standing in at him.
Harry felt something cross through him, something that seemed rooted in the star beneath him and the air above. It was like being caught between two metal poles, both of them glowing with reflected electricity. Harry screamed, and felt as though the pain grabbing him recoiled suddenly at the sound.
The pain came back a second later, though, and crawled up the middle of his back. Harry screamed again and rolled. He was almost at the edge of the star, and he saw Ron standing there, his face pale with shock, holding out his hand. Harry lunged for him.
He didn’t make it. Later, he thought it might be a good thing he hadn’t. At least Ron wasn’t dragged into this whole mess with him.
The spasms shooting through Harry grounded themselves in the star, finally, so the feeling of the pain coming from above passed, and then Harry felt as though someone had blown up a hood surrounding his face. He thrashed and lifted his hand towards his eyes.
“That was the magic changing your lungs, giving you the ability to breathe in flight,” Healer Sedon had said.
Harry didn’t give a fuck at the time, and barely later. His heels were scraping the ground over and over as he screamed, also over and over.
“Mate. Mate!”
That was Ron, and the first thing that made Harry listen to something other than his own voice screaming in panic. The impulse to take care of Ron, protect his best friend and not make him afraid, made Harry control his voice. He got onto his knees and tried to ignore the feeling of random nerve pains shooting down the middle of his back.
“Ron?” he whispered.
“Yeah, mate. I’m here.”
The stars and the circles and the glowing runes had all vanished. As Ron pulled Harry to his feet, and Harry managed to limp a little on his own instead of just hanging onto Ron for support all the time, he saw a woman in the custody of the other Aurors. She had long silver hair and cold eyes, but she still looked a lot like Fleur Delacour.
Her eyes were so cold that Harry found it hard to meet them. He did anyway, and he asked, “What did you do to me?”
The woman laughed at him, a horrible yawping sound like a dog more than a bird. Healer Kilhoun had tried to explain why that was, later. Harry hadn’t cared enough to listen.
“We think she probably won’t explain,” said Ron grimly. “I don’t know, she might not be able to. She’s mental. We interrupted her ritual and she transformed and started flying and flinging fire at us, and half the men succumbed to the allure. I never would have got close to the fireplace to use it if I hadn’t had those lessons from you in resisting the Imperius Curse.”
Harry sighed and glanced away from her. “I reckon that the truth will come out in the interrogation, anyway. What—ow!”
The crawling feeling had come out again in the middle of his back. Ron said something and reached for him.
Harry didn’t hear him. This time, it wasn’t with pain but something that felt like the shedding of dry skin that his back tore open. When Harry could turn around again, the wings were floating to the ground around him, and moved when he did, brushing against each other and hissing in whispers like leaves.
“Um,” Ron volunteered a second later.
Harry sighed. “Straight to the Healers, yeah?”
*
Apparently, the fourth thing that had gone wrong and turned him into a Veela had to do with his unique magic. Healers Kilhoun and Sedon had got into an argument about that, Sedon’s normally smooth voice turning into almost Veela-like screeches. At least it wasn’t Harry they were arguing at, so he could lie there and observe.
But eventually, they had calmed down and explained it to him. The fact that he’d once been a Horcrux, and dying and surviving, and the blood quill scars that still lingered on his right hand from his detentions with Umbridge, and maybe even something else—Sedon held out for the “something else” while Kilhoun berated him—had transformed him into a Veela himself.
“And the sugar in the cornflakes had something to do with it, too,” a third Healer, Veraz, had slipped in.
Harry had asked the important questions. “Will I turn into a bird? Will I start affecting people with allure? How far will this go?”
No, he got to the first question; otherwise, he would have already transformed the way female Veela apparently did. Men who were touched by Veela magic only grew wings, and didn’t transform into birds. The other questions, though, they didn’t know the answers to.
“You’ll have to go to the people who can answer those,” said Sedon in a heavy voice that ended up stopping the argument. “The people who can actually teach you how to restrain and use those powers.”
*
But they didn’t tell me then, Harry thought, as he closed his eyes and felt his wings shift another centimeter towards the floor, that it was going to be bloody Veela finishing school.
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