The Lord and Lady\'s Veelas

Pairing: Harry/Cho (mention)
Warning: Angst, no lemony goodness just yet.
Summary: We see Hermione’s life, and both Draco and Harry begin their Liebzeit.


Liebzeit and Nostalgia


“Damn it John! I told you the last time, that it WOULD be the LAST TIME you CHEATED on me!” Hermione’s mother, Janine, yelled. Janine wasn’t her mother-not really. She was stepmother number 3 to her alcoholic-adoptive dad. Her real mother died long ago, but to warn you, she did already look up her family tree. No magick. Hermione closed the warn oak door to her room silently, as to not incite any anger from them. It was bad enough listening.

She stole away to her bed, and sat upon her mother’s handmade quilt. It was simplistic in design, but somehow it had become Hermione’s most prized possession-and that included the wall-to-wall shelf filled with books that she had bought.

Hermione squeezed her eyes shut, suppressing the tears she longed to spill, yet never could. Her father wasn’t always like this, and it truly was unfair to judge him. He and her mother had met when Hermione was only an infant, and her mother but a lowly intern that wished to begin dentistry. He had taken in her mother, and although she died when Hermione was only 5 years of age, her ‘father’ had taken such tender care of them.

Things began going down hill after that. First he had a long string of affairs, and then he began to find himself bored of those mature ladies he so often sought comfort in. He missed Irene-Hermione’s mother. Hermione was the spitting image of her mother-in complexion, hair, and eye color at least. At first he’d only pet her as she tried to fall asleep…then it became more.

Jason, Hermione’s father’s friend and associate panicked. He knew that Hermione was magickal-he had seen as much when Hermione would slip up in front of them and move things with her mind. He talked to an old professor of his, Minerva McGonagall. Upon hearing his story, she talked with the Headmaster, and it was made certain that Hermione would be joining Hogwarts the next year-at the age of eight.

To make sure her father wouldn’t touch her any longer, he threatened exposure to his old associate if he did not willingly (and legally) give him custody of Hermione. Begrudgingly, he agreed. Hermione was taken in, and was taught the basics of magick. When she left for Hogwarts she was well versed in the art, and went under the pretense (to everyone but the professors) that she was eleven. While at Hogwarts, and especially over the summer, she took muggle classes independently.

By the time third year rolled around, she had finished muggle high school, and was exceeding in her independent studies from college courses. She was on top of the world, and was *enjoying* life. Then the end of fourth year came, and she had discovered that Jason had died. Because he hadn’t made arrangements for her after his death, she was sent back to live with her ‘father’ and stepmother number 1.

It was a living hell. If she didn’t hide her earnings (as she learned early on), then her ‘parents’ would take it and call it ‘rent’. The beatings from her father started, as did her depression-once again. As fifth year began, although she was still friends with Harry, Ron, Ginny and everyone else, she felt as though they were slipping away from her, and would only talk to her if they needed help. Her sixth year was even worse.

The few times her friends had actually spoken to her, was about schoolwork and only the occasional ‘How are you’. When she tried to talk to them, they’d listen some of the time, or would easily be distracted by one of their many admirers. What was even worse was the fact she was excluded from any and all Order business. So she studied, and learned new things-for her books were her only friends. When she tired of using her mind all the time, she’d use her body.

She became addicted to long runs around the grounds of Hogwarts, and would sneak into the Room of Requirement (as she (along with all other girls but Ginny and Luna) were banned from the D.A.) in the early morning, around 3 am, and work out for three hours. It was her stress relief. No one noticed her anyway, not even when she quit raising her hand in class.

When she returned home after her sixth year, she stayed away from home as much as possible. She picked up two jobs (working a total of 60 hours a week), and joined a summer track and soccer team. She still studied for college courses, and had already received her Bachelors of Science…but she took to history and language more. She became fluent in the time span of 3 years, for the languages of German, French, Spanish, and Latin. The muggle people she played sports with seemed antsy around her, and didn’t make a move socially towards her unless totally necessary. She didn’t care anymore. She was fifteen now, and when she turned of age, 16 in the wizarding world, she could apply for emancipation of her ‘parents’.

Hermione grabbed her c.d. player and thick leather bound book from beneath the bed, and let out a long sigh. She pulled on her headset, and began playing Nickelback’s “The long Road home” as she opened her diary. She flipped to the first empty page, and realized she’d have to buy another one before school began.

Quickly calculating her finances, she deduced she’d have the money for school supplies, an addition to her worn-and near outgrown wardrobe, and 200 galleons for during the school year. Relief flooded through her, and she noted a rumbling in her stomach. With a grimace, she put her pen to paper with an oath that she would feed herself after her entry was over.


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Draco growled in annoyance as another pureblooded-whore who thought she had a chance sauntered up to him with a carefully wrapped present. The present, which by all means was beautiful in design, did not take away the sharp contrast of its presenter. Morag-wasn’t that her name?

“Hello, Draco. I had something wrapped special just for you, but…” at this she leaned over to his ear, “I was forbidden to give it to you tonight. Something about a family tradition later on. So I bought you this.” She finished, and handed him his present with a petulant pout. He rolled his eyes, and threw the present onto the table with the other ones he had already received.

“Draco! Be polite!” Narcissa Malfoy hissed through her teeth. She gave him an icy glare, and Lucius appeared by her side. Slipping a protective arm around her waist and nipping at her exposed neck, he added,

“Yes boy, you’ll have plenty of time for petulant behavior tomorrow. Today, however, you’ll paste on a smile and do your pureblood duties. Which, by the way, does not include being nonchalant toward other pureblood guests.” Draco just rolled his eyes and inspected his fingernails. He stood up, and brushed himself off as he shot his mother a lopsided smile.

“I think I’ll go off and ‘socialize’ then.” Draco promised, his eyes dancing with mischief. His mother’s lips pursed, and his father rolled his eyes. Draco made his way through the throng of people, and took Pansy’s hand as he walked to the dance floor.

“Getting desperate, are we?” Pansy intoned, sliding her hands into their placement on his hips, and leaning her head into the crook of his neck. Draco suppressed the urge to roll his eyes, and whispered back,

“If you’d take off that nasty little glamour of yours, you’d also get desperate.” Pansy just giggled, and retorted,

“Yes, but you see, I want my mate to love me for me-not some preconceived notion of a trophy wife. That just sucks-no he’ll love me thorns and all.” Pansy whispered wistfully, and Draco allowed himself a small smile.

The Pansy everyone else saw wasn’t her true form. In reality, she was a tad taller, with more aristocratic features, and glorious, silky, gold weaved hair to her waist. Not to mention a heart of gold, but she was determined that her mate would love her through thick and thin. It was too bad the poor bloke didn’t even know that he was predestined for some one.

“So, pray tell, when are you going to tell Neville that he is your mate? The Veelan mentality can hold out just so long. Poor Longbottom; the boy’s going to be so confused when he learns his soul mate is one of the ‘deatheaters’ he so violently hates..” Draco muttered sardonically, and Pansy lifted her head to glare at him.

“I am NOT a deatheater, nor do I plan on being one. Anyone daring to follow that half breed is just as insane as that moldy piece of shit.” Pansy spat and Draco smirked. He twirled her around, and then brought her body flush up against him, which made her blush profusely.

“Now, now Pans, you know better to speak of treason while under another pureblood’s roof. You could get in BIG trouble…” Draco taunted, and Pansy rolled her eyes.

“It’s not as if my name hasn’t already been declared neutral, and I know you wouldn’t rat me out; you hate the shit more than I do. Something about-” Pansy began, trailing an innocent finger down his torso whilst batting her eyes in false naivety.

“Giving a bad name to serpents-Slytherins in particular.” Draco finished with a gleam in his eyes.

“It’s too bad you never were able to enjoy the benefits of human puberty before your Liebzeit. I have to say Pans, you missed out.” Draco continued, twirling her once again. She laughed and wagged her finger at him.

“Naughty, naughty boy. Don’t worry though; you’ll understand soon enough why I’m happy I didn’t. You’ll hate yourself for spreading those lucky wenches legs. Feel disgusted, even.” Pansy promised, giving him a half smile. Draco glared and retorted,

“At least I’ll know how to please my mate.”

“True. But that takes all the fun out of the many ‘firsts’ you and she may have.” Pansy reprimanded, and then suddenly froze in step. Her faced paled as she looked off into the distance, and her hand tightly grasped Draco’s for support. Draco gave her an odd look, and turned his head to where she was looking.

Speak of the Devil, here was Neville Longbottom-but he wasn’t alone. On his arm hung a giggling Cho. Draco’s lips pulled back into a sneer; what was Longbottom doing here?

“Draco? What is Longbottom doing here? And with Cho? Do you think that…maybe…I mean, perhaps he and…Is she his…I, Draco, what do I do?!” Pansy whispered frantically, her eyes showing her inner torment. Determined, Draco tugged at her hand and led her to the ‘couple’.

“Cho,” he intoned smoothly, “So glad to see you here. I was under the impression you had a previous engagement. With a Potter, I do believe? Not that I’m not happy to see you,” this was said with a sarcastic note, “But why are you here-and who is you date?”

Cho rolled her eyes and tossed her hair back, preening for a verbal spar.

“Of course you’re happy to see me,” she replied whilst drawing her eyes to his lower regions, “I mean, I’d hope so by the way your pants are cut-no one likes people who stuff their pants to look like the big man at the Manor.” Cho finished, looking up at him in earnest innocence. Beside him Pansy seethed,

“Why Cho, it’s not at all nice to insinuate such rude things about your host! I mean honestly-hasn’t your mother taught you better? I mean, I’ve only seen her but a handful of times, but she was one of those sincerely kind people. She even offered to give me the hair off her back-and you can’t even say hello to your host!” Pansy scolded in mock injustice.

Cho’s eyes narrowed at Pansy, her cheeks red with embarrassment. Neville placed a comforting hand on Cho’s shoulder, to which Pansy winced, and glared at her.

“We left Potters party, because we didn’t wish to be insulted for our views. But if you people are going to act like a bunch of snobs with diamond encrusted wands stuck up your arses, then the best I can do is recommend a good mediwitch for you, and bid you farewell.” Neville spat, and led a madly blushing Cho (who was trying to hold back a giggle) out the door with him.

Draco felt Pansy’s hand tighten on his, and he rubbed the center of her palm with his thumb, as he turned them around and led them to a couch on the side of the vast room. The silence then ended and music began playing, as people went about their own facades again.

“Draco? Tell me he doesn’t hate me, I didn’t mean to snap, I just couldn’t help it…And-” Pansy sobbed, only to be cut off by Draco’s gentle finger on her lips. She sniffed, and looked up to him, her eyes begging to release her tears.

“No, he doesn’t hate you. He was just upset that they weren’t so warmly welcomed. Don’t worry Pans, he’ll see you for who you are and fall in love in time. Just hold on, okay love?” Draco whispered soothingly as he caressed her shaking back. He held her like that, when he began to feel a queer feeling rise from his stomach, and begin to spread through his body.

“Draco?” Pansy questioned, looking up at him as she felt his arms lock in place. Her eyes suddenly widened with understanding.

“Shit! Draco, hold on, repress it for a while, I need to fetch your parents! You cannot cause a scene!” Pansy hissed, and scrambled out from underneath his hold. Draco’s eyes seemed to show comprehension, and he slowly lowered his hands to the couch cushion as he tried to reign in his emotions.

He felt a sleepy, cold pain seep through him, racking his body. It demanded he sleep; yet it tortured him in the process. He felt the warmth leaving him and bit his lip. He heard a bunch of pops around him, but didn’t realize what it was, for his sight had already blurred and was slowly darkening. He unclearly thought he heard his mother’s voice soothing him, being laid into vaguely familiar silk sheets, and the a cold darkness that consumed him.


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“Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday, dear HARRY! Happy Birthday to YOU!” the guests of the Burrow sang, as Harry smiled from his spot on the couch. He leaned over, as was expected, and blew out all eighteen candles on his birthday cake.

“So, Harry, what’d you wish for?” Ginny whispered suggestively at his side. His girlfriend, Cho, glared at Ginny and gave her a look that clearly said, “He’s mine, bitch”-that of which Ginny pointedly ignored as she batted her eyelashes at her object of affection.

“My revenge for what Voldemort has done.” Harry said passionately, winking at Ginny. Everyone clapped at that, and began pushing their presents toward him. From Fred and George, he received an animated porno magazine (to which Mrs. Weasley promised to throw out), from Seamus a set of Quidditch balls, from Dean a new broom-Nightshade as it was called, from Ron a Chudley Cannons poster and t-shirt, from Luna a set divination tools (like a crystal ball and a few packages of tea leaves), from Cho a green dragon hide wallet from Gucci, and a black dragon hide back pack from Ginny (that happened to be Prada), plus an assortment of other gifts from his friends.

“Here Harry, I thought enough to get you some birthday cake….” Ginny announced huffily, and sent a pointed glare to Cho (who was currently upon Harry’s lap). Harry just smiled and took the slice of rich chocolate cake. Everyone was eating and joking around, and then reminiscing, when out of the blue, Neville asked,

“Hey Harry, why didn’t you invite Hermione? I thought she was your friend too.” At this many quieted down, Ginny rolled her eyes as she picked off imaginary lint from her short skirt, and Ron seemed annoyed.

“Well… I don’t know… I suppose we just all, I don’t know, drifted away from her. I mean, all we talk about with her is school work.” Harry finished off with a jest. Some laughed, and Ron added,

“Well, no Harry, that’s not entirely true. She’d also tell us, ‘You aren’t suppose to do that’, ‘When are you going to study for the NEWTs?’, ‘We are going to get expelled if we do that!’-all in all, she was a real party pooper.” Ginny nodded enthusiastically, and added,

“Yeah, not to mention that mum never liked her much. The bint was always trying to dictate what Ron and Harry did!” Everyone but a select few (like Seamus, Remus, Percy, Charlie, Fleur, Tonks, Cho, Neville, and Luna) burst out laughing.

“That wasn’t very nice Ginny. Hermione always stood up for you when she heard others talking about you, and I swear that girl never had a mean bone in her body!” Cho scolded, hurt by everyone’s lack of care for a person that used to be so close to them. Neville nodded and added,

“She’s still my friend! I mean, it’s not as if I talk to her all that often, but she isn’t half as mean as you people make her out to be.” Ginny glared pointedly at the two of them, as Harry looked away embarrassed.

“Well if you don’t like it, you can leave.” Ginny replied, her finger pointing to the door. Tonks and Remus shared a look, and shook their heads. Cho was taken aback, and she looked to Harry for support.

“You cannot talk to me like that! Tell her to watch her mouth, Harry. Harry?” Cho intoned, and Harry looked uneasily around the room. He cleared his throat, and sent his girlfriend a pleading look.

“She lives here.” Harry said gently, and Cho slapped him. Almost everyone in the room gasped (Neville smirked, Remus nodded approvingly, Fleur hid a giggle, and Seamus looked a tad surprised).

“Hey Neville, I had to cancel going to Draco’s birthday party. I know it’s a bit late, but would you mind terribly if I asked you to be my date to the debacle?” Cho asked Neville with the most dignity she could muster, and Neville smiled charmingly back.

“I’d love to. Somehow that puts a better taste in my mouth.” Neville said, and took her arm as she apparated out of the room. Harry paled, and Ginny rolled her eyes.

“What a bitch.” Ginny snorted, and everyone seemed to carry on in the party, as though nothing ever happened. Remus looked to Tonks and then to Harry, Tonks nodded and then Remus set off to Harry.

“Harry? Would you mind if I had a word with you in the kitchen? I have something that I need to speak with you about.” Remus asked politely, and with a quick glance around the room, Harry nodded. He stood up and trailed after Remus into the kitchen, where he found Fleur, Charlie, Percy, Tonks, and Mrs. Weasley waiting for him. The only reason why Mr. Weasley wasn’t there was because he had been called away by the ministry the day before.

“If you’d have a seat, Harry, then we can begin.” Mrs. Weasley suggested kindly, and Fleur looked him over cautiously. He took a seat at the only available spot (which happened to be situated away from the rest of them), and twiddled his thumbs nervously.

“If this is about the conversation earlier, I-” Harry began guiltily, but was cut off by Remus.

“No it wasn’t, although I’m very disappointed in you for that. This is about your heritage. From your father’s side of the family.” Remus stated, and brought out a manila envelope. He passed it on to Harry, and Harry opened it cautiously.

Inside was a family tree, with various names highlighted in red. The first one was James Potter, then Olivia Talinali, then Elisabeth Hallatschek, and so on. Behind the Family tree, there was a file on “The Lady’s Veelas”.

“Harry, do you know what a Veela is?” asked Remus nervously. Harry’s head shot up, and he swallowed hard, unsure of where the conversation was headed. He nodded his head towards Fleur, and asked,

“You mean like her? With the whole enchantment of the opposite sex thing?” Fleur flipped her hair and blushed as Charlie grinned and slipped his arm around her waist. Remus nodded.

“Well she’s one of the types of Veelas. She’s one of the Lord’s Veelas, and thankfully holds none of the past rivalries, which is the only reason why she is here. You, however, are one of the Lady’s Veelas. Do you understand what I’m getting at?” Remus asked, and with unsure eyes Harry shook his head ‘no’. Remus sighed, and pulled out a part of the file that was in Harry’s envelope.

“Your ancestors meant well, and have done well in making sure no one knew that they were Veelas; hell, I didn’t even know James was one until he had his Liebzeit and begged for the Marauders help in getting Lilly. The thing is, because you’ve turned eighteen-the year of coming of age by Veelan standards, you will be going through your Liebzeit tonight. Are you following so far?” Remus asked, and Harry nodded.

“Good. This will begin when you feel an odd sensation in your stomach-it’s cold, but painful. Don’t worry though, it won’t kill you, although it’ll feel like it would. The feeling will envelope you until you fall asleep. After that, I’m not sure on the details, but you will search out your mate within your dreams. And before you get all excited, your mate is predestined-for she is the only one you’ll ever love.” Remus finished, flipping through the file’s pages.

“Will she be someone I know? Or my girlfriend?” Harry asked, panicking. What would Cho say? She was already pissed at him now. Maybe he could find a potion to stop it.

“Not necessarily, I never knew Charlie until I saw him in my dream. He was like this beacon of warmth in this vast sea of cold darkness….” Fleur replied, her eyes drawn to Charlie’s.

“Will she see me in the dream?” Harry asked curiously. Charlie gave him a grin.

“Yes, in a way-but they’ll probably brush it off as a would-be fantasy dream cut short.” Charlie replied and Fleur giggled from beside him. Harry nodded, and nervously asked yet another question.

“Can I prevent it?” Fleur looked offended, Charlie surprised, Remus stunned, Tonks hid a small smile, and Mrs. Weasley gave him a sympathetic smile.

“There is absolutely, positively no way to stop it.” Tonks said sadly, and nervously touched her neck. Harry gave her a curious look, and she sighed.

“I refused the Veela who claimed I was his mate. My boyfriend at the time was a hot-to-trot werewolf, and I didn’t want to give him up. I didn’t tell my boyfriend about it, knowing his rage would grab a hold of him, and the Mate-Protection Act hadn’t been passed yet. My Veela lost control one day, and chased after me into the wood near the school I attended, and after catching me, as was custom in his bonding ritual, he instinctively bit my neck. That’s when my boyfriend found us, and became enraged. He attacked the Veela, and had the upper hand-for the ritual is very draining. My Veela died, and my boyfriend sent to Azkaban. He was to be released the day after the Mate-Protection Act was launched, but under it, a representative of the Lady’s Veelas pushed for prosecution, and my boyfriend received the dementor’s kiss. I lost both.” She whispered sadly, and Remus squeezed her shoulder comfortingly.

Eyes wide, Harry swallowed hard and tried to digest the information told to him.

“I’ll lose control around her?” he asked nervously.

“Not in the beginning, but the Liebzeit takes it’s toll as time passes, and it gets harder and harder. Mental anguish also comes into play, believe me-I know.” Whispered Fleur with a sad smile, and Charlie squeezed her hand in reassurance.

“What’s the difference between the Lord and the Lady’s Veelas?” Harry questioned.

“Their looks, and charms-for one.” Mrs. Weasley said, not wanting to be left out.

“Yes, the Lord’s Veelas have more lighter coloring and their abilities generally lie in potion making, spells, and knowledge of the night sky. They can also lure members of the opposite sex by increasing the amount of their pheromones that are produced. The Lady’s Veelas, however, have darker coloring, have a more deeper understanding of plants and animals, and can lure away the opposite sex by song alone.” Remus added, and Mrs. Weasly glared-quite put out by his raining on her parade.

“Okay..and, what about, oh….” Harry froze in mid sentence, his limbs freezing in place, as a cold and painful sleep seeped through his body. He drew in a shaky breath and looked to someone for support, but saw his vision failing as everything in the room faded. He felt a severe icy pain as he struggled against the current-but he struggled nonetheless, determined to not fall into this destiny just yet. He heard others telling him frantically to relax, but he wouldn’t have any of it-and suffered. Icy needles pierced him inside and out, and a torturous hand grasped his heart, until he blacked out.


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He was cold, and felt as though he was drowning-and he searched. He searched for the warmth that called for him from so far away, and he drifted through the empty cold shells of people. It was so cold, and he felt lost, until he felt the pull. He began his swim towards it, ignoring the painfully cold current, as he swam toward the warmth.

He could see it now, shining a brilliant gold in contrast to his shimmering silver, calling to him. As he moved closer, he could feel its warmth seeping through him, and calling him closer. His heart swelled, and he swam faster. He could see her shape now, ethereal in her golden light, but her shape was still evident. Long, lithe, and voluptuous, and still calling to him. Then he reached her-and as he touched her, felt her warmth meld into his being, and knew in an instant this was his mate.

Exuberant, he turned her to face him, and all his joy melted away. “Hermione?” he asked, and the being’s eyes shot open, her face twisting into a confused mask.

“Malfoy?” she asked confused, and he released her, and slipped back into the abyss, eye sight fading as he watched his golden goddess disappear from his eyes. All he could think was, “Hermione?” And then there was nothing-no thought.


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His sight cleared and he saw a painful, chaotic darkness around him. So cold… He thought, and began searching, searching for anything that resembled warmth. Like a beacon… or so they said, he began searching, and wandered the void in utter helplessness as he searched. Then he saw the pinprick of light, and pushed himself to swim towards it.

After an eternity of seemingly life-draining strokes, he made out a small female figure. Invigorated, he called out to it, as he swam towards the beautiful golden light, and began to see the aura that surrounded him. It was a deep green, that was as fluid as the chaos around him, and it grew brighter and stronger as he neared the golden being. The being became more intricate as he neared, and he could make out he long, supple legs and arms, a curvy back side, and long curling strands of what he thought to be hair.

For a moment he was halted, as a silver aura seemed to meld with hers, and he felt this unbidden feeling of rage envelope him. The light was HIS! He needed it, and with that thought in mind, swam closer to his golden light. Suddenly the beacon was set free from the silver aura, and he could see it falling away. Empowered, he swam closer, and grasped her shoulder, shuddering as he felt her warmth envelope his being. He felt whole-and knew this light was to be his mate.

He turned her around, and came face-to-face with a wide-eyed, and very frightened Hermione Granger.

“Harry?” she asked in confusion, and he let her go as he backed away. He felt himself free falling, with her eyes in his mind. Then everything was gone-and he saw, felt, and thought of nothing.


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A/N: Phew! I didn’t mean for the chapter to be this long, but I wanted Hermione’s background information out of the way, and for the boys to begin their Liebzeit. And yes, I did just make up that terminology. It’s German for love-time, and I thought it would fit. I’m still considering if I want Ginny to be evil or not, and who ends up with who for side pairings. Advice is wanted. I’ll hopefully update tomorrow, as I have a vacation from school, and can write-but everything is “up in the air”. Reviews inspire me to write more, if you get the picture…^.^;