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Step One: Do not under any circumstances come into a creature inheritance. Not that there's anything wrong with it, but it's terribly ironic when you fought on the side that despised anything that wasn't a pureblood without any creature blood mixed in. Of course, the people that I told pointed out the irony. The day my inheritance happened was not pleasant. I had just spent three months in Azkaban before I was released and put on house arrest in the manor. Mother was on house arrest in some family home in France because we apparently could not be trusted n the same house. Father was in Azkaban but it didn't look like he was getting out any time soon. I could only produce simple charms, and the only self-defense charms allowed were a less violent stunner, some variation of Stupefy, but I had yet to use it. If I were in any danger, I should probably call for help or apparate to the four locations that I could go to, which is the Ministry, Diagon Alley, Hogsmeade, and St. Mungos. I had to be accompanied by Aurors to those places unless it was an emergency and then I would go to St. Mungos. 

My 18th birthday was lonely, except for the Auror that showed up for my daily check-in. I can't cook much but I made a chocolate cake that tasted a little too bitter with frosting that was runny. Apparently, your inheritance can be brought out my moments of strong emotions. Of course, I hadn't known that when I decided that my kitchen was the best place for a breakdown that had been holding itself in for three months. All I remember was waking up to the Auror who showed up the next day for my daily check-in. I opened the door and he came in, and that's where I passed out. It was my lucky day that the Head Auror was Kingsley Shacklebolt, who was next in line for Minister of Magic. He had apparently come to tell me the news that McGonagall had extended the offer to return for an Eighth Year at Hogwarts to me. Granted, we ended up having this conversation in St. Mungos where they told me (and Kingsley) that I had come into a Veela Inheritance. This was classified so it was between me, Kingsley, that healer, and her boss. Healer Richardson had ended up being my go-to healer, so I had to request for her every time I ended up there. Unfortunately, I did have to go to the Ministry and sign the Veela registry. We had to keep it under wraps for now because some people were upset that some death-eaters had gotten off easy. Apparently, someone could use the veelaness against me, or purposefully hurt me to enrage the veela. 

I had a floocall with McGonagall and Madam Pomfrey where I and Kingsley explained my condition and what it would entail. The rest of the summer previous to September First was quiet. They were still lonely, but I wasn't sure that Hogwarts would be any less lonely. I only knew of Blaise coming back but I couldn't know if he still wanted to interact with me, I wouldn't blame him though. I arrived at the platform incredibly early to avoid the stares and the crowd. I wasn't the only one with the idea, but who could blame the Golden trio for getting here early. I was sitting in my compartment when they appeared on the platform. Weasley and Granger were attached at the hips while Potter trailed behind them. They almost entered my compartment but they noticed me before they could enter. They ended up in the compartment next to mine. People trickled in and it was strange to see people act as if we hadn't just come out of a war. They mostly stayed away from my compartment, and the compartment next to mine. Blaise apparently decided he'd still want to be seen with me because he joined me in my compartment. We didn't talk, but I think he understood. Three months in Azkaban means your only companions are dementors, and even though I had spent three months out of there, It still feels as if they're lurking around.

The Ministry decided that I couldn't use my magic unless I was in class. McGonagall had disagreed because it was unsafe for me and that I would be a target. Therefore, the Ministry let me decide. Strange, but it felt like a trap. One wrong move with my magic working at all times and I'd end up in the cell next to my Father's. Obviously, I went with the Ministry's decision. I asked how they did it, controlling when I could use my magic, and they gave an answer that was somewhere along the lines of unspeakables and can't tell you any more than that. Being surrounded by people also meant learning how to control my allure. I hadn't had to do that before but I think Madam Pomfrey has some potion I could use. For now, I'll use occluding because it's similar enough to rack my brain for the allure.

Step Two: Do apologise to those that you personally hurt. It was a couple of days before I had my first attack. Some Gryffindor sixth year sent a stinging hex as I was walking from the library before curfew. It could've been worse, really, and it's not like I blame them. I've done horrible things, and it's only fair that they're upset that I had somehow avoided Azkaban or a worse fate. So, I made the smart decision of sending letters to people that I felt had been more personally affected by my previous years. The first two were Granger and Lovegood. Obviously, I'd bullied the two for years for reasons I choose to repress. Granger was also tortured by my Auntie Bella in our Manor while Lovegood was held prisoner. Dean Thomas was next on the list. Then all of the remaining eight Weasleys. Then lastly Potter. All of them had sent letters back with things along the lines of tough times, won't forget, really in the grand scheme of things, ending the feud, and I'm hanging this on my wall because a Malfoy just apologized to me. Lovegood's response was kind, too kind, she declared me as a friend and told me she'd seen me covered in wrackspurts everytime I was in the dungeons. What are wrackspurts? Potter sent a short reply of okay and ps: I'm sorry I sliced you up in sixth year. I forgave him a long time ago. I wouldn't have minded dying that year had it not been that I couldn't protect my parents. The rest of the hexes for the next couple weeks had been small, sting hexes on the way to breakfast, or confundus charms in the middle of potions. Then it moved up to cutting hexes, nothing big, but just things like small slices on my hand or my face when nothing sharp had been near it. 

Did I mention I share a dorm with the rest of the returning eighth-year boys? Madam Pomfrey mentioned that whenever I have the first heat that they'll give me a personal room. For now, I feel trapped with so many people around me and some of the ingredients in Sleeping Potions are toxic to Veelas. I don't know if it's me or the creature but I feel restless, antsy even. I'd often spend my time in the astronomy tower or an abandoned classroom. Though it starts to feel as if I'm not alone and really, His magic had left a curse scar on me; How did he expect me not to recognize him. I ignore it, for now, sometimes he appears as a cat (animagus maybe?) or he's covered by his invisibility cloak. At least, I assume it's the cloak. His family extends to the Peverells, he could've inherited it. I reach a breaking point when he follows me out on the grounds. I really do want to be alone.

"Potter," The cat stares at me with its wide, unblinking eyes. "You owe it to me to at least stalk me as yourself." The cat blinks slowly before transforming.

"How did you know it was me?" He asks. It's truly unfair to look this good. Smooth brown skin with bright green eyes. Slightly crooked teeth that aren't too white and a slightly crooked nose. 

"You know McGonagall as cat? How her glasses seem to be in her fur?" He nods."Same thing. But with your glasses, eyes, and scar. Not to mention your unruly hair."

"But I just could've been a normal cat. Did you already know I was an animagus?"

"Not until a couple days ago, no. I recognized your magic."


"You do recall Sixth year, yes?" His face glooms over. "Your magic left its imprint in the bathroom."

"But you've hexed me multiple times, and I can't feel your magic."

"A bit different. Those were hexes and jinxes. The one you used was a curse and it left a scar."

"I scarred you?"

"Missing the point, Potter" He looked as if someone kicked his crup. "I'm going to assume you could feel the Dark Lord when he was near you?"

"Yeah, but there were also other reasons I probably felt him" I looked to him as if to continue, but he didn't. He switched topics instead. "Why don't you just call him Voldemort?"

"You have to understand that he viewed that as insubordination. We were to call him the Dark Lord or My Lord. Also, the name was jinxed for that entire year, so forgive me if I'm still a little scared he'll show up out of nowhere."

Apparently, He decided this was the end of the conversation and walked away. My mother could potentially have a cow if she were to have seen his social skills. It's no matter, Maybe it's normal and I'm just used to having a stick up my arse. My body decides to betray me because I'm soon feeling feverish. Madam Pomfrey warned me it would probably be soon. I occlude the allure away, just in case, because as much as my body says otherwise I do not want to mate. Madam Pomfrey directs me to a bed while we wait for McGonagall because we don't know where the guest room is, and it would be safer for me if I didn't travel alone. She said she chose someone to bring my schoolwork to me, and that my magic would still be active during normal class hours. She chose Potter for this because if he could throw off the imperius curse, it's likely he can throw off the allure. 

The heat is terrible. If I thought I was restless before I am somewhere else now. Maybe it's because I'm ridiculously horny and there's nothing I can do about it. Did you know veela men can get pregnant? It is convenient considering I'm a gay man and would like a kid at some point in my life but inconvenient because I'm stuck in this school and I trust absolutely no one in this school to do any of the protection spells properly. Potter has been mostly leaving the work at the door but I had thought his knock had been McGonagall's. The room is secured with wards that don't allow the allure to go out, but don't allow magic to come in. Unfortunately, I open the door and come face to face with him.

"What's wrong with you?" He asked. Many things but they don't concern you.

"Nothing contagious I promise." 

"I know that but your magic is radiating out of you."

"I figured, but you mustn't allow it to control you."

 "Control me? Exactly what are you up to?"

"Nothing, Potter. If you think I'm up to something, shouldn't you tell McGonagall about it?"

"I asked. She didn't say anything about it, just brushed me off."

"Therefore, I'm not up to something."

"So she doesn't know what you're doing? It's awfully suspicious, you know, the whole act you're doing. You don't use magic outside of class, You aren't rude to people, and you even apologized. Obviously, You're up to something." Why does it hurt to hear him say it. It's not as if we're friends, I don't even value his opinion.

"Maybe you should ask your friends at the Ministry about my whole magic thing. Even McGonagall disagreed with them on that." I forced the tears back down. Merlin, being in heat makes you emotional. "Secondly, If you think I'd do anything that would put me back in Azkaban, you're wrong. People don't leave Azkaban without losing a little bit of themselves, so forgive me if I'm not the same person I was before."

"Fuck off, Malfoy. You've obviously got McGonagall in your trap. How could you stoop so low, after I testified for you?"

"I don't know what you think I've done Potter, but-"

"Stop denying it."

"I'm not denying anything. I honestly don't know what you think I've-"

"Piss off, Malfoy. Leave me the fuck alone for the rest of the year." And with that, he slammed the door. Honestly, it hurts that he thinks I've done something. I don't blame him. The concerning bit is that the veela hurts too. I tap the little button that rings Madam Pomfrey because I don't know if that's normal for the veela to feel like that. I inform her of my issue and gives me the news that might just be the end of it all.

Step Three: Do not give your Veela any reason to believe you'd want Harry Potter, as your one and only mate.