Draco got ready for bed, putting on Potter's t-shirt and silk sleep pants. He folded Potter's jumper and put it beside his pillow, even though he knew there was a risk Potter would see, he was starting not to care. Mostly because predicting Potter's reactions seemed impossible.

Potter had confirmed all of Draco's worst fears, that is was pity and guilt and his stupid hero complex, but then he refused to leave, and gave Draco his jumper on top of that. He had teased Draco about keeping his robe but still hadn't taken his t-shirt back. Every time Draco thought he knew what Potter was thinking, he did something that made Draco question it all over again.

Potter had said he wanted to be friends. Perhaps that was it. He truly pitied Potter's friends if Potter was always this confusing. He pitied himself for being jealous of them anyway.

Draco pulled his comforter up to his chin, turning on his side so he could see Potter's jumper and leaving the lumos on beside his bed.

Soon, Draco would have what he suspected was his last fever and there would be no reason for either of them to stay in this tower. Then Draco would see if Potter really wanted to be his friend, when every other person he saw hated him and the rest did their best to pretend he didn't exist.

-

-

"Malfoy?"

Draco frowned, grumbling as he tried to pretend he was still asleep.

"Malfoy?" Potter asked again, amused, "Your breakfast is downstairs. I'm gonna go, but I wanted to let you know I'll be back as soon as classes are out."

"Go away," Draco muttered, shoving his face into his pillow.

"Good morning to you too," Potter said. "See you later, alright?"

Draco made a noise at him. He didn't move until Potter had closed the hatch behind him and was headed down the tower. When he finally pried his eyes open, he found, to his horror, that he was clutching Potter's jumper to his chest like a security blanket.

He groaned even louder and pulled his blankets over his head to better languish in his complete and utter embarrassment.

-

-

Draco ignored his notes and classwork after he finished his late breakfast, searching through the stacks of books he had somehow accumulated in his room until he found the one with the worn red cover. There was no title stamped on the cover or spine, the title page inside simple said 'Veela'. He pushed his pillow up and sat on his bed, opening to the first page and started reading.

-

-

"Malfoy?" Potter called, a moment later coming up the stairs, "You're still in bed?"

"Yes," Draco said, not bother to look up.

"Did you get out of bed at all today?" Potter asked.

"For food," Draco said.

"Do you have a fever? It's too early for a bad one, right? But sometimes you get smaller ones-"

"No," Draco marked his place with his finger and looked up, "I was just reading the book the veela left."

"She has a name," Potter said.

Draco shrugged.

"It's..." Potter frowned, "It started with an M."

"You don't know it either," Draco said, "acting all high and mighty."

"I used to know, which is more than you can say," Potter said, dropping his bag on the floor and collapsing back into the chair beside the bed.

"I have no interest in the knowing the name of an enemy," Draco said.

Potter raised an eyebrow.

Draco sighed, "It's like... it's... have you ever seen two cats spot one another and they both puff and arch their back and make horrible noises at one another?"

"Yes?" Harry said in confusion.

"Well, it feels like that looks," Draco said, knowing that didn't quite make sense, but there weren't words for the messy flood of feelings that had crashed over him when he met the veelas.

"Right..." Potter said slowly, "erm, learned anything interesting?"

"I think I'm a throwback," Draco said.

"What?" Potter said.

"A throwback," Draco repeated flatly.

Potter sighed, "Care to explain that in a way I can understand?"

"I'm not sure small enough words exist for such a task," Draco said.

"Hilarious you are, bloody clever work there. They ought to give you an award for such a pithy jab," Potter said with a slow sarcastic clap.

Draco rolled his eyes.

"Alright, Malfoy, tell me. Try not to strain yourself," Potter said.

"Merlin I wish I had something to throw at you," Draco said.

Potter nodded to the book in his hand.

"I'm reading that," Draco said, affronted at the very notion, "And it's a library book."

Potter laughed. "And since when do you care about library books?"

"It's is a well known fact that all librarians are absolutely terrifying when it comes to their books."

"Yeah, but that book's from Beauxbaton," Potter said.

"That is even more terrifying. Imagine someone crossing the channel to inflict righteous retribution upon me," Draco said, holding the book protectively against his chest.

Potter laughed again.

Draco frowned at him, mostly for the look of the thing.

"Are you going to tell me, or am I going to have to beg?" Potter said.

"Oh, would you?" Draco asked hopefully.

Potter shook his head, "Not a chance."

"Tease," Draco muttered. "As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted-"

Potter snorted.

"I think I'm something closer to what veela used to be. I must have been 'lucky'-" Draco aggressively finger-quoted, eliciting another snort of amusement from Potter, "-enough to have gotten the perfect mix of genes to turn me into a little monster."

"You've always been a little monster," Potter said lightly.

"Mother always called me her little angel," Draco said.

Potter grinned, "Well, you look the part."

Draco felt himself start to flush and glared, "Oh shut up."

"Nah."

Draco looked down at his book, furiously trying not to blush even more than he already was. "The veela have actually been trying very hard to... destroy themselves, I suppose is the best way of putting it."

"Destroy themselves?" Potter asked, leaning forward.

"They go into detail about picking life partners that have little to no veela heritage and to adopt if it's unavoidable. Actually, they encourage adoption regardless," Draco said.

"Why? That sounds, I dunno, sort of grim and sad," Potter said.

"To avoid suffering, I suppose," Draco said, "Veela are- they're assaulted and taken advantage of in much higher numbers than the normal population. And there is very little gain from the veela's abilities.

"The allure and beauty seem to be the most common ones to inherit and cause the most pain. Can you imagine falling in love with someone only to realise they only care about you because they were compelled to, or their interest was purely superficial?"

Potter sat back with a thump, "...yeah... that's pretty awful."

"I've just gotten through the history section of the book," Draco said, "I'm hoping it will actually start being useful now."

"You could have just skipped ahead, couldn't you?" Potter said.

"What if I missed something important? I don't know what might or might not be important," Draco said.

"Now you sound like Hermione," Potter said.

"I'll take that as a compliment seeing as she's the only of you that can think in a straight line," Draco said.

Potter smiled, "Sometimes you need to think curly."

"What?" Draco said, his brow furrowing.

"See? You'd understand that if you were more-" Potter made a wiggly-swimming motion with his hand.

Draco's confusion deepened, "...Did you hit your head earlier?"

"Never mind," Potter said, grabbing his bag, "Before I forget, Ron and Hermione want to talk to you."

"...Why?" Draco asked apprehensively.

"Uhh...they want to try and," Potter sighed and rubbed his forehead, "try and mend fences."

"Really? You have to tell me honestly. I do not want to get hit by Granger again," Draco said.

"Really," Potter said, looking increasingly embarrassed, "They, uh- because I spend so much time around you, they want to talk to you. ...And Hermione is very curious about your being ill, so she'll probably ask you about that."

Draco frowned.

"You're pouting."

"Shut up," Draco muttered.

"Well? I can tell them no," Potter said, looking somewhat hopeful, which forced Draco's hand. Now he needed to know what Potter didn't want him to know.

"I suppose. Yes, alright," Draco said, adding, "I imagine it will be unbearably awkward."

Potter nodded morosely and slowly finished dragging his bag onto his lap, "...Fine. I spent the last two days practising wand-work until my hand nearly fell off so I could show you all the fiddly parts."

"Oh," Draco said.

"Just so you know I wasn't avoiding you, entirely, or well, I was being useful-" Potter said, rambling and looking a bit flushed.

Draco smiled, marking his place in the book and scooting the edge of the bed.

-

-

The following day was grey and soft, snow brightening the world with a glow stolen from the sun. Draco followed up lunch with more reading of the veela book, or he tried. The fire was crackling softly in the grate and Potter's jumper was warm and soft against his skin, and he quite accidentally drifted off into a comfortable doze, only awakened by the prickle of his spine that felt-

Draco sat up abruptly, reaching down to grab his wand off the open book on the floor. He was familiar with how Potter's magic felt and could probably pick out McGonagall and Pomfrey from a crowd, but the feeling creeping up his spine was none of the people he had become familiar with.

He lifted his wand, bracing his arm on the back of the couch to stand.

"Hermione! Hermione- slow down, would you?"

There was a firm knock on the hatch above the stairs followed immediately by it opening and Hermione Granger's breathless voice, "Hello! I'm very very sorry to have come unannounced! I hope we're not bothering you!" She came up the last few steps, leaning against the wall to catch her breath. Weasley was a few steps behind her.

Draco stared at them, frozen in apprehension.

Granger finally turned and startled back against the wall when she spotted him, "OH! Oh," she pressed her hand over her chest, "I didn't- Sorry, again."

"Bein' spooky, Malfoy?" Weasley said.

"Potter isn't with you," Draco said.

"No-"

"It wasn't a question," Draco said, sounding more terse than he intended. "Why are you here?"

"Didn't Harry tell you?" Weasley said, "He said you were alright talking with us-"

"I need to hear it," Draco said through clenched teeth, fighting to stay calm, his hands were starting to ache, and he lowered them out of sight as the nails began to darken and grow, "It's important."

"We... we wanted to talk to you and see if we could try being- well if not friendly, at least civil to one another," Granger said, "Especially with Harry and you being-"

"And you don't want to hurt me," Draco prompted.

"What-? No. NO, of course not!" Granger said hurriedly, "Just talk."

That helped, and Draco found himself nodding, annoyed and frustrated with himself.

"We're not gonna hurt anyone," Weasley said, holding up both hands, "We just wanted to talk to you without Harry around."

"I am sorry," Granger said, "but I really wanted to talk to you, to maybe ask you for your help."

"My help?" Draco said.

"I'm mostly hoping you aren't trying to trick Harry," Weasley said, "if you're toying with him, all bets are off."

"I'm not. There's no benefit to it," Draco said stiffly.

"Being a shite was usually reason enough for you," Weasley said, stuffing his hands into his pockets with a shrug.

"I'm not fifteen anymore," Draco said, "Things change."

"Hope so," Weasley said.

"Can we sit down?" Granger asked.

Weasley pulled his wand out of his pocket, "I'll just cast a-"

Draco was off the couch, moving away from them until he felt the cold stone against his back, a hiss in his throat.

Granger and Weasley both froze their eyes wide.

"What just happened?" Granger said slowly.

Weasley lowered his wand with theatrical slowness.

"You're blocking the door and stairs," Draco managed, putting his hands behind him. He winced as his hands changed faster than he was comfortable with, scaling creeping over his hands as his nails grew and curved, "And you should have brought Potter with you."

"...Harry said it wasn't contagious," Granger said.

"Still dangerous," Draco panted, "especially with you two,"

"Us?" Weasley pointed at himself, "What's special about us?"

"Both hit me, more than a few hexes-" Draco said.

"Well, so have you-" Weasley started.

"It's not-!" Draco had to close his eyes, willing the rest of himself not to change, letting the fear funnel into his hands.

"Would it help if we put our wands down?" Granger offered.

"Mione!" Weasley said in alarm.

Draco nodded.

"Okay, we'll put them down on the floor-"

Draco forced himself to look, to see them do it.

"And move away from the door?" Granger said after setting her wand on the stone. She grabbed Weasley's arm and moved him along the wall without waiting for his answer.

Draco moved with them, keep them opposite himself until his shoulder butted against the fireplace mantle.

"And we're not going to hurt you in any way," Granger added for good measure.

Draco nodded, feeling more in control, though his throat was still tight from residual anxiety.

"I'm sorry," Granger said again, though this time she actually sounded like she meant it. "Are... I don't mean to pry, but Harry wouldn't tell us, do you have a maledictus, Malfoy?"

"Are you turning into a cat?" Weasley asked and got a sharp elbow in the side for it, "Oof-hey! He hissed didn't he-?"

"Shut up, Ron," Granger said.

Draco laughed weakly, "Gryffindor really ought to have a bull herald instead of a lion, you're all stubborn idiots with more determination than common sense, charging in without thinking."

Weasley frowned. Granger winced.

Draco rolled his eyes, Potter would've laughed. He also would have mocked Draco back, but that was part of the fun. "I'm not a maledictus," he said, "I can't imagine where you got the idea."

"It's not infectious," Granger started listing like he had actually wanted an answer. "-so it must be inherited, you're pureblood from a long line which means a certain amount of inbreeding-"

"The Malfoy's moved to england to avoid marrying cousins," Draco said sourly, "or second-cousins. We're not stupid."

"It's still a remarkably small gene pool, even avoiding cousins and second cousins, I bet you can find familial times with any wizarding lineage-" Granger said.

Draco rolled his eyes again.

"Hermione-" Weasley tried to interrupt.

"-and maledictus isn't a hard guess since it covers a range of problems caused by your magic-"

"Hermione. Let him answer," Weasley said, raising his voice just enough to talk be heard.

Granger glared at Weasley but stopped talking.

"Well, Malfoy?" Weasley said.

"I don't have to tell you," Draco said.

Granger took a breath and then deflated slightly, her voice coming out meek, "I suppose not."

"What, gonna bring shame to your family or something?" Weasley joked, "It's not like it can get much worse, can it?"

"Ron!" Granger said aghast.

"What? It's true," Weasley said.

"It's cruel," Granger said, "We're trying to get along, not make him hate us more!"

Draco said softly, "...it's not other people I'm worried about."

Granger glared at Weasley until he broke.

"Sorry..." Weasley muttered, rubbing the back of his neck.

Draco took a deep breath, then another. He wasn't going to hide it. It would only make it all the worse when someone found out, and it was put all over the front page of the paper. It would be better to get it over with than to wait in fear. He had had enough of that for a lifetime.

"I'm a veela," Draco said.

"A veela," Weasley looked disappointed, "Course you are, look at you, all pointy and pale. Boring. I thought maybe you were going to turn into a horse."

Draco stared at him in utter disbelief, "...a horse."

"Or a cat," Weasley said with a vague shrug.

Granger frowned, "Then why are you ill? I wasn't aware that- I mean it doesn't make any sense if you were born as a veela-"

"Hey, Malfoy, you got an allure? How come I've never felt it?" Weasley asked.

"I don't have an allure," Draco said.

"Not much of a veela-" Weasley said under his breath.

Draco frowned, concentrating on calming and grabbing hold to the feeling, focusing all his mind on it. He could tell when it washed them, they both jumped and then sagged into one another. Granger's eyes widened with surprise even as she leaned into Weasley and Weasley grabbed her arm.

"Not an allure," Draco said, "The allure has three components, desire, compulsion and most importantly, a calming effect that removes all the worry and concern caused by the first two. I only have the calm."

"I've always wondered what the point of an allure was," Granger said sleepily, "Getting all the attention, stealing boyfriends and ruining marriages- Not that I have anything against Fleur, she's nice enough."

"To lure them in and eat them," Draco said.

Granger blinked trying to summon up surprise or concern and failing, staying sleepily relaxed against Weasley. And it struck Draco, that if he were a predator, it would very, very easy to finish the two of them off right there and then.

"...Veela were predators. I imagine deer and elk and whatever else was around was their primary food source. Then humans started spreading and pushed out other creatures as they are wont to do, and veela adapted to a new kind of prey," Draco said, "Until, of course, humans got too clever and started hunting the veela."

"How the hell does a twig like you kill anything," Weasley said, his voice rough.

Draco hesitated and raised a hand, the slate black talons drinking in the light as he stretched them out and then let them curl back together.

"Err, that's- that's, yeah," Weasley swallowed hard, looking even paler than usual. "Could you take it off now? The not-allure? I was, um, dosed with a love potion once and there was this locket and I- I really can't stand not bein' in control what I feel."

Draco relaxed, removing the calming and taking a few deep breathes, concentrating on changing his hands back as well. He felt... better, immensely better, knowing that he could have such a significant effect with just a calming aura.

"Thanks," Weasley said hoarsely, giving a shudder and keeping his hold on Granger.

"That was...lovely," Granger said, still sounding sleepy, "It reminded me of taking a hot bath." she sighed hugely, "I forgot what it feels like not to think all the time."

"To answer your earlier question, the veela abilities manifest through a series of intense fevers. It's supposed to happen around fourteen or sixteen. Unfortunately, at sixteen I thought a madman was going to horribly murder my family and I if I didn't complete two completely impossible tasks," Draco hesitated, looking at Weasley, "I'm sorry about the mead."

"Yeah, me too," Weasley said, "Can't stand the stuff now. But I mean, poison? It's not really your style. Not nearly flashy enough."

Draco shrugged weakly, "I had to do something. I thought... I thought Snape worked for Voldemort and he was there, watching all the time. I was just buying time. I was always just trying to buy time."

"You did a good job of it," Weasley said.

Draco studied his expression, looking for any hint of mockery.

The corner of Weasley's mouth turned up in something like an understanding smile, "Harry had to explain it to me, that you were buying us time in the manor by not identifying us. He said there was no way you wouldn't recognise him."

Draco frowned, fighting down a wave of embarrassment, "You should've changed his eyes. They're very distinctive," he muttered.

"Yeah?" Weasley grinned, "He thinks yours are rather 'distinctive' as well."

Granger laughed.

Draco looked from one to the other, not sure what he was missing. He decided to change the subject, "You never said what you wanted my help with."

Granger sighed, "We're... worried about Harry."

"I mean, he's always been intense about things, and when he's got his mind set on something it's pretty much impossible to budge him," Weasley said.

"We don't think we can change his mind, but if you just... look out for him? Be there for him if he needs it?" Granger said.

"Why would he need me?" Draco asked.

Weasley and Granger looked at each other, sharing a knowing look.

"Peas in a pod, in all the most frustrating ways," Granger said.

Weasley grinned before looking back at Draco, "Look, just, Harry's a bit of a mess, I mean we all are, yeah? But he's- you can't push him. He doesn't take it well."

"Not well at all," Granger said ruefully.

"Mione's a bit too direct," Weasley said.

"I tried being subtle," Granger muttered, "I don't think he listened half the time and ignored me the rest." She half-heartedly pushed her hair back behind one ear, "I think he'd listen to you, though."

"Me." Draco said flatly.

"You." Granger said back in the same tone. "He always finds you again."

Draco felt another flush of embarrassment and frowned, "That's because he's a stalker."

Granger started to protest, but Weasley spoke first, "True."

Granger shot a glare at him.

"What? It's true!" Weasley said, "You didn't share a room with him. If I had to hear 'Malfoy is up to something' one more time I was going to throttle him."

Granger crossed her arms, "My point stands."

Draco shivered as he felt a new, but very familiar, person approaching up the stairs. "You said Potter doesn't like being pushed, then can I assume he wouldn't be happy you came up here unannounced to talk to me?"

Granger winced, "...Yes, but it's too important not to; Harry's too important not to... at least try."

"And we're going to get out of here before he comes back," Weasley said.

"Oh, is that so?" Draco said, his smile growing.

Weasley narrowed his eyes, "What's with that expression? I know that expression. What are you scheming?"

"Nothing," Draco said, nearly laughing as the absurdity of the situation washed over him, "You're the ones scheming." He glanced towards the door.

Weasley followed his gaze, his eyebrows rising in alarm as Potter got close enough that his footsteps could be heard coming up the stairs.

"He said he had to talk to McGonagall. I thought it would take at least an hour," Granger said.

The tension was starting to drain out of Draco, leaving him feeling wobbly with relief as he slid down the wall and sat on the floor, letting his legs sprawl out.

Potter came up the last steps, his righteous fury somewhat lessened when he stepped on Granger and Weasley's wand, stumbling at they rolled under his feet, "What the fuck?" he snatched the wands off the floor and shook them at Granger and Weasley, "Really, what the fuck?! What were you thinking- Again?! I was-"

A giggle bubbled out of Draco that he was truly utterly helpless to stop. Him, Draco Malfoy, with Granger and Weasley, and he wasn't the one being yelled at. He wasn't the one Potter was angry with.

Potter turned instantly, the table rocking as he shoved past it in his haste to get to Draco, "Are you alright? Are you-"

"I'm fine," Draco said, trying not to laugh again.

"You don't look fine," Potter said, his voice sounding strained.

"I am!" Draco said, bracing his hand against the fireplace to push himself back up and then decided it was too much work. He held his hands up, and Potter took them without Draco even having to ask, pulling him up easily and drawing him close. Draco's arms hung loosely over Potter's shoulders as he held Draco tight, his voice a muffled whisper by Draco's ear.

"I told them this weekend, after Hogsmeade, I was going to ask the elves to send up a tea tray-" Potter rambled.

"I'm fine," Draco said.

"I told them, all they had to do was wait," Potter said.

"I'm fine," Draco insisted, "We talked. It was just a bit tense."

Potter pulled back slightly, still so close Draco would have only had to tilt his head forward to brush their noses together, "I'm sorry, chickadee."

Draco blinked, the air between them changing somehow. He noticed that Potter had the faintest of freckles dusted across the tops of his cheeks, cheeks that seemed flushed-

"Errr...maybe we should go?" Weasley said.

Draco looked over Potter's shoulder, Weasley was holding a hand over his eyes, while Granger covered her mouth with both of hers, her eyes wide; and he burst out laughing.

"Did you know Weasley thought I was going to turn into a horse?" Draco told Potter.

"...cause sometimes a maledictus turns into...um, an animal..." Weasley weakly tried to explain.

Potter sighed, his hands slowly slipping off Draco's back, grazing his sides and making him shiver.

"You can go yell at them now," Draco said, enjoying the mixture of frustration and annoyance on Potter's face.

Potter turned around. Granger and Weasley started offering explanations and apologies, talking over one another at cross purposes as Potter approached.

Draco sat on the couch, leaning over the back to watch the show.

-