The Lord and Lady\'s Veelas

Pairings: Hermione/Hermione, Hermione/Draco
Warnings: Solo, Voy, and ‘hand opperations’.
Summary: Harry is scolded by the least likely people, Draco sees something interesting, and decides to help out Hermione.


Of Moral Dilemmas and Frustrating Wenches


“Harry, I thought you said that ‘the lust may be there, but the love won’t. I cannot survive on just the lust’. What the bloody hell happened!” Ginny screeched, much to everyone’s surprise. Harry blinked in confusion as Fleur gave them a flummoxed look.

“It’s none of your business, Ginevra.” Harry snapped, and then proceeded to blush becomingly. Ginny raised a brow in return, and turned to the gathering of girls near the fire with a smirk.

“Hey, did you hear about that siren of a singer in the-” Ginny began, but was cut off as Harry’s hand covered her mouth. Fleur stepped closer, a mischievous smile dotting her face.

“Well it seems, because we are all a little on edge, a story would be needed at the moment…” Fleur trailed off, and Harry swallowed.

“There’s no story, is there Ginny?” Harry pleaded as he retracted his hand. Ginny’s eyes flashed as she bit her lip, but her face soon took on a look of waywardness.

“Well, not really…” Ginny trailed off, and Harry let out a breath. “Well, except for the fact that Harry tried to bond with Hermione after he seduced her by a song-” Ginny began to rant, but after gathering his wits, Harry covered her belligerent mouth.

“Harry!”

“Why’d you do that!”

“Are you absolutely nutters?!”

“Damn teenage hormones…” Severus trailed off, and everyone gave him an odd look. He rolled his eyes and held his hands up in a sign of surrender as he sat down on his chair with an indignant “Hn”.

“Harry, you cannot take someone as a mate by such persuasion… It’s unethical.” Fleur whispered aghast. Harry swallowed again, and ran a hand through his hair.

“I’m sorry! I just, I don’t know… snapped. I went up there to make conversation, but she just ignored me… I thought if I could just get her attention, she’d be more receptive. I never meant to…” at this part he blushed “get as far as I did. I just couldn’t stop thinking about…” Harry trailed off, his eyes getting a definite glaze as his cheeks reddened.

Fleur smiled understandingly as she patted his shoulder.

“I know Harry, but you must stay in control. It is imperative.” She whispered, and Dumbledore decided to make his appearance. All eyes turned to him, and the room quieted its murmurings at the sight of his face.

“May I ask why we have been gathered?” Remus asked. Dumbledore turned to beam at him and nodded his head.

“Of course. It seems we may have another possible ally.” Dumbledore replied, and sat himself at the red chair near the empty fireplace. He took out a piece of stationary, and beckoned Snape to fetch it. Intent, everyone watched Snape as he read it, in an attempt to gouge his reaction.

“Are we certain that he is serious in his plight, or is he just looking for a roll in the hay?” Severus asked, and handed the parchment back to an amused Dumbledore.

“I truthfully do not know, but I have sent word to his father and him. They should be arriving shortly.” Dumbledore said, and as though they relied on cue, there was a knock heard from the hallway. Smiling brightly, Dumbledore turned to Snape and asked,

“Severus, if you please.” Scowling, Snape turned around—billowing capes and all, and went to answer the door.


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Sighing wearily, I closed my monstrous journal with an audible plop, and got out of my bed to my bathroom. I cracked my neck, and inspected my reflection. Subtle chocolate eyes with flecks of gold stared me back from their almond-shaped caverns. Annoyingly long eyelashes caressed my lids, and a ‘strong nose’ mocked me. I sighed, pulling my too-full lips into a frown.

“And why is it that I care about my appearance all of a sudden?” I asked aloud, but continued to inspect. My hair was a dark brown, the shade of the dark chocolate my mother had always fancied. It was fashioned in the riotous curls my father had passed along that extended to the top of my waist when fully dried. My skin no longer held the milky quality from my younger years, but had instead retained a soft tan that resembled a very creamy coffee color. Curiously, my eyes drifted down the rest of my length.

My arms were plain, with the exception of a few freckles speckling my shoulders. My neck was particularly long, although it didn’t seem as thick as it should be. Sighing, I rested my gaze on my chest. I never understood the obsession with that part of the body, and detested my own obnoxious rack. I had begun wearing corsets to bind them in the sixth year, but they hadn’t stopped growing. According to the Victoria’s Secret saleswoman, I was a big D, yet I felt more secure wearing a C. Grumbling, I trailed my hand down my toned midriff.

I stopped and wrinkled my nose at my bum. It was hell trying to get baggy pants that fit. It looked like someone had taken a nice-sized bubble, cut it in half, and stuck it on my backside. I supposed the fit my wide hips, but thought it looked out of place with my narrowed waist. ‘Every artist’s nightmare’, I thought to myself, and glanced at my legs. I liked my legs-they were useful. They were athlete’s legs, with only a touch of feminity. They weren’t bulky-which is expected of a runner, but they were firm and flexible.

I berated myself for the lapse of character. ‘What do I care what I look like? I was planning on dying an old virgin surrounded with all her cats (named after various soap opera stars) and yelling at hooligans. Looks weren’t important. Strength and intelligence was.’ Once I considered myself brainwashed thoroughly with the mantra, I brushed my teeth and combed out my hair. I took my acne medicine, and discarded my bra and shirt before I entered my room.

I reached the bed, and began to undo my jeans, but stopped as I felt a shiver of anticipation. Startled, I dropped my hand, but felt the alien tingle in my stomach. Rolling my eyes, I brushed off the feeling, and after running a hand through my hair, let my hand drift down to my pants, but stopped as I felt a burst of pleasure when I touched my breast on the descent. ‘Am I aroused?’ I asked myself stupidly, and swallowed.

‘Of course I am!’ I berated my naiveté, and swallowed hard as a crude thought entered my mind. ‘Why not?’ Despite the fact I had already committed myself to the idea, I wasn’t brave enough to watch myself commit the act. Begrudgingly, I shut my eyes as I let my hand trail down my chest again, gasping as I caressed my nipple. Feeling adventurous, I rubbed it more roughly, and mewled as the sensation intensified.

My other hand latched onto the other lonesome nipple, and I moaned aloud as I began to massage the both of my breasts. As a few of my inhibitions began to leave, I began to massage them a tad more roughly, and groaned as I felt the pleasurable pressure intensify and my panties dampen. Curiously, I trailed a wayward hand down the flat plane of my stomach, unconsciously arching while doing so, as I unbuttoned the snap of my jeans. I slowly unzipped the jeans as I became preoccupied with the sensation of tweaking my ardent nipple.

In frustration, I abandoned my breast with a whimper, and shucked off my baggy jeans. Once they were off, II laid myself down on the bed, and resumed to where I left off. Tentatively, I touched my moist lips, and moaned as I timidly caressed them. My nipples ached and I brought the negligent hand back to them. I moaned as I felt the sensation on my nipple intensify when my hand’s rubbing was combined with the dampness from my nether lips.

Once again adventurous, I brought my left hand down to my moist center, and began to rub my cunt through the cloth. Panting, I decided that the cloth was too much of a barrier, and eagerly peeled the arousal sodden panties of me. Pleased with myself, I began to explore my outer lips without the former obstacle. I mewled with delight as I touched a particularly sensitive button of flesh, and my cheeks reddened ‘My clitoris’. My body seemed to flush fully as I rubbed the outside of the nerve, and my hips bucked under the ministrations.

With much irritation, I discovered rubbing the pleasurable spot wouldn’t be enough, and only intensified the need of something a little further down. Desperately, I delved my hands further, and groaned with frustration as I found my vagina only to manage a little depth. I groaned with the knowledge of why. When my menstrual cycles came I had to always wear pads, due to an extremely thick hymen. I had once gotten a gynecologist to check it out, and she had suggested surgery to remove it. Despite her ardent advice, I had refused and now saw the error of my ways.

Swimming in a pool of need and desperation, I rubbed around my clitoris frantically, as I kneaded my right breast roughly. Almost divinely, I felt my hand guided to my vagina again, and whimpered as I applied more pressure. I soon lost rational thought as the pleasure built to an unimaginable crest, and bucked my hips desperately to attain the forbidden fruit.

And then it was as though dam broke, and all the pressure exploded into a myriad of pleasure. My back arched, and hips frozen in the air, I let out a scream of ecstasy. My vagina clamped down on what I believed to be my fingers-for I was to far gone to feel anything but the release, and my body shook with the force. It wasn’t just the pressure that flowed out, but all my pent up emotions, and I cried out in joy. As I fell from my high, my body began to relax, and fell gracefully back to the bed. Vaguely, I felt my juices run down my thighs, and putting my hands on the sides of my face.

I panted, and let the feeling die down in a post-orgasmic celebration. I smiled a true smile, and sighed as I calmed down. Feeling sleepy, I yawned and gave one last content cat-like stretch before allowing myself to drift off to sleep.


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“Malfoy?” Harry intoned, as he saw a familiar blonde and his father enter the room. Draco sneered in return, and answered,

“Potter.” Lucius just smirked from his place by his son, but the look faltered as he saw Severus. Casting a look to Dumbledore, he warned,

“Headmaster, Severus is one of the dark lord’s…” he stopped suddenly as Dumbledore raised his hand.

“I realize. Severus, however, is not what you believe him to be.” Dumbledore said, and the two wizards considered each other coolly. Draco broke the silence.

“Headmaster, my father and I wish to join your side not by our admission, but because of who my mate is. I trust, that in return for not only my fathers and my allegiance, but of my peoples allegiance, that you will repay me the favor when I ask of it in helping me attain my mate.” Draco spoke smoothly, and Harry regarded him in confusion.

“What do you mean, your people?” Harry question, unable to keep the malice out of his voice. He was still angered about what had occurred earlier that day. Draco smirked and replied,

“You mean to say the gossip mill has yet to reach your ears? Potter, I am a Veela. One of the Lords Veelas, and the crown prince of my people. Once I discover my mate, I will be able to assume the throne of my people,” Draco said and looked to his stoic father “If I so choose”.

“Yes, well Draco, you aren’t the only royalty in the room.” Dumbledore spoke, and Draco’s eyes widened along with his father’s.

“Harry is also a Veela. He is also the next in line to the throne of his people, but can only assume the crown once he takes his mate. What a coincidence.” Remus said, and Harry gaped at him. Fleur sent him an apologetic smile and tried to smooth by saying,

“We knew your heritage was shock enough. We didn’t wish for you to become to overwhelmed.” Harry’s eyes darkened, but he said nothing.

“You knew of the next heir to the throne but denied the knowledge to your King?” Lucius bit out, and Fleur flushed. Lucius took a step closer, and Charlie stepped in front of his mate with a hard glare.

“Remove yourself. This is none of your concern.” Lucius ground out, and Fleur swallowed hard.

“It is my concern, she’s my mate.” Charlie all but growled, and Lucius sneered at them.

“Then my condolences to my traitorous subject.” Lucius retorted, but Dumbledore stopped them.

“That is enough! We gathered here today, not to pick a fight, but to band together. With the help of Voldemort’s right hand men and the Veelas, we all have better chances of winning the war.” Dumbledore argued, and they all nodded their heads in agreement.

“Under our conditions, of course. Between my son’s request and my wish of amnesty, of course.” Lucius replied. Remus shot to his feet at the mention of the latter condition.

“Your amnesty?! After what you’ve done, you expect full pardon!?” Remus shouted, and Lucius scowled.

“After what I do for your cause, I expect some perks for myself, if that’s what you mean.” Lucius replied.

“The answer’s no.” Harry spat, and Draco raised his brow.

“That’s dandy. Just imagine, father,” Draco began, bestowing upon Lucius a beguiling smile, “what would the dark lord bestow upon us for telling him who the Lady’s Veela’s heir to the throne is! And what would dear old Voldy say when he hears about,” at this Draco lowered his voice ominously, “Snape playing for the other team. And not in the fun way.” He added as a side thought.

“You have a deal.” Dumbledore spoke, his eyes losing their majestic twinkle. Lucius smirked, and patted Draco on his back.

“Good. I’ll send information via Draco. We’ll be off now. Have a good evening, Fleur.” Lucius said, and winked at a silently fuming Fleur and Harry.


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“She wasn’t there.” Lucius stated and received an irritant glare from Draco. Draco leaned up against the wall of the tavern and closed his eyes.

“I know, but I can feel her here.” Draco murmured, a smile lifting his lips. He turned his nose skyward, and smiled fully.

“She seems to have a balcony room too.” Draco trailed off, his eyes opening with a mischievous glint. Lucius chuckled, and followed after his son. Draco walked the distance to the side of the tavern, and cast his eyes upon a balcony.

“You don’t intend to climb to your awaiting Juliet, now do you?” Lucius asked warily, as his sons gaze fixed upon the only lighted room on the second floor. Draco smiled sadly, and replied,

“Not that I’m not tempt-” but stopped mid sentence. Hermione appeared in the room, and from their distance, they could see her in her full glory. Lucius, having already been mated off to the woman he loved, could only appreciate her earthly beauty. Draco, on the other hand, couldn’t help the groan that fell from his lips.

Everything went into slow motion for him as his blood began to pound and his olfactory glands began to operate in over drive. The light in the room caught her silhouette perfectly, and as she casually walked to the bed, her breast bounced freely as she began to undo the snaps of her jeans. Heart pounding and palms sweaty, Draco couldn’t resist the shudder of unadulterated lust that ran through him.

He saw her bring her hand down her chest, and groaned. ‘Please’, he begged, and silently willed her to go further. Lucius, who stood beside him, looked nervously from his son to Hermione.

“Draco, this isn’t wise.” He warned, but Draco never let his eyes wander from the window.

“Leave.” he rasped, and took off his shirt. Lucius’ eyes widened.

“You cannot possibly intend upon..” Lucius began, but Draco snarled from his place.

“I said, leave!” he snapped, and Lucius stepped back. Turning around, he apparated back to the manor. Draco shuddered and winced as he felt his wings unfold from their place between his shoulder blades. All of the Lord’s Veelas had wings, but they were retractable so they could remain hidden. They were shaped like an angel’s wings, and Draco’s were a stark white color tipped in a golden shade.

Growling, he flew upwards and a little closer to her room, as he saw her begin to massage her breast. His eyes shone, and he restrained himself from flying in to take her himself. She then began to rub them both, and he felt his palms become heavy with the need to fill them.

Noting her eyes were closed, but not wanting to get caught, he edged closer, and was rewarded with the sight of her undoing her jeans. He growled in approval as he watched her lie on the bed, and resume her quest to touch herself. Unable to help himself, and realizing his flying was becoming amateur at best, he landed on the balcony.

He began to walk closer to the bed, but stopped himself, and pressed himself up against the wall near the balcony. He noted her frustration with the offending cloth, but decided against ripping it off for her. Instead, he watched her do it instead, and fell to his knees as she explored herself timidly.

‘She’s a virgin’ rang through his head, and he couldn’t distract himself from his weeping erection any longer. He unbuttoned his trousers, and lowered them so that his cock sprang free. He rubbed his aching member in tune to her desperate strokes. He moaned in tune to her, trying his best to remain silent, yet was failing the more her hips bucked.

Almost instinctively, he realized her predicament with an astonished groan. ‘She hadn’t masturbated before, either—and she didn’t have a clue on what she needed’. Ignoring the alarm bells in his mind, he made his way to her, secretly pleased that her legs seemed to spread instinctively for him. Cautiously, as he rubbed his cock he looked to her face, but only saw her need and desperation etched into her contorted face.

He groaned aloud, and kneeled between her, as he guided her hand back downward as gently as he could. He brought it to her gleaming entrance, and pressed her index and middle finger to her opening, and with a shock realized her obstacle. Her hips bucked, and he bit his lip. Groaning, he placed her hand on her thigh as he moved his hand toward her opening. At contact, she mewled, and her hand flew upwards and unconsciously grasped his manhood.

Panting, he made the decision to allow them both this night. His left hand grasped hers and guided her hand in strokes across his cock, as his other hand applied the needed pressure to her hymen. Thankfully, she was blissfully unaware as he broke through a little with his index finger, and practiced rubbing her with the free fingers. His palm brushed against her clit as his index stroked her inner walls and his other fingers massaged her swollen lips.

The increased pressure was what he had been needing, and her hand was moving of it’s own accord as it wanked him. She moaned beneath him, her other hand roughly massaging her breast as Draco spared a hazy glance to his own cock and was nearly stunned into stopping. At the base of his cock, a knot had been forming, and he could visibly see his cock enlarging as he felt his climax building. He willed himself to look away, and caught Hermione’s face.

Her moans had been gradually becoming louder, which thankfully had covered his groans, and her hair was splayed wildly around her like an earthly halo. She then froze with her back arched, and her hips level to his groin. She then let out a loud cry as she climaxed, which covered his hoarse shout as he came with her.

Caught up in the moment of watching her face and feeling her walls squeeze his finger as her pussy throbbed and spilled over his hand, he didn’t see the amount of cum that shot out of him. Once Her body relaxed, and some of his euphoria faded, he looked down to see the cum shooting out of his engorged member.

Calling some wits about him, he pulled out his wand, and casted a messy sleeping incantation on her in a low voice. She stretched like a cat and a satisfied smile came onto her features, but he became entrenched with watching himself. After about five minutes his orgasm stopped, and his still-sensitive member became flaccid—without the knot. He swallowed hard, and quickly did up his pants.

Casting a nostalgic glance at her juices that still remained on her, he gave into the last temptation. Grasping her pliant thighs, he began to clean her up, slowly moving to her thighs, and then began to lick her lips. He almost froze again when he heard her moan in her sleep, but resumed at a quicker pace as her hand grasped his hair in encouragement.

He reached a trembling hand to her butt and grasped it firmly in his hand as he increased the actions of his tongue. Within five minutes he brought her to another screaming orgasm, and once making sure he licked up every last drop, tore himself away with dilating eyes. He ignored the bulge in his pants, and watched as her hips settled and her movements cease.

He casted a quick cleaning spell on her and her bed sheets, and proceeded to tuck her in. Once finished, he casted her a longing glance and turned off her light as he flew down to the alley once more. He picked up his discarded shirt, and apparated home with the intent of interrogating his mom about what had occurred in his orgasm.


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A/N: *blushes profusely* Er, aside from the earlier masturbation scene in the story, this is the first time I’ve written a really explicit sexual scene. Feed back on it is direly needed. In advance, the reason why I did the scene with Hermione checking herself out in the mirror is because I wanted to bring out her insecurities with her body.

EmZ- Will do. Do you wish to be emailed for all future updates? I’m thinking about making up a list of names to email on updates for those who review…but am wondering which people I should send update notices to.
Tabitoo- *laughs* It’s all right; I hated the coach for this year. She’s all about running as many miles in a day as possible. As for Harry and the singing bit, I mad notice of the Veela’s powers in my Prologue. The Lady’s Veelas hold the power of a siren’s song, meaning that they are able to manipulate the hearts of others by way of singing to them. In singing to her, he cast her under his spell of lust. Thusly, she was glad to leave with him to relieve the ache.

Whogirl- I’m glad it’s one of your favorites, and will update when possible.