Chapter 6

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The series of rooms, much like a flat, they noted- was decorated in a very relaxed sort of modern style with clean lines and a lot of silver and green.

"Slytherin colors," Harry noted. Draco smirked, his head tilted to the side in thought.

"Yes, though there are others, they are my favorite- even before school." he said, taking a seat on a large leather couch, folding his legs beneath him and gesturing for them to sit themselves.

"So, let's start with where these Veela's all suddenly came from," Hermione said, breaking the silence.

"Voldemort." Draco said, picking up a picture and staring at it a moment before setting it aside and looking through the rest, "it started with me. Mother had always led people to believe that the Veela gene was dormant in herself, protecting herself. I, however, royally messed up. There was an incident- that I do *not* wish to discuss- at the Manor with Lucius. He immediately turned me over to Voldemort, who branded me, to fight for him. He began experiments, successful ones, to turn ordinary witches and wizards with the dormant Veela gene into more Veelas. He was trying to- to mimick me specifically. He was successful though none were just like me, not clones like he wanted. He was going to use them in the war."

"But he didn't," Harry said, remembering the final battle.

"No, he didn't. I wasn't about to allow that. I'll get there, give me a moment. Anyway, he wanted to clone me specifically. There was a large number of us, ten, that still refused to follow him, we were all wounded it one way or the other, eventually. He kept them in cages till they swore their loyalty to him under Veritasseum. Not many knew of them, it was a big secret because he suspected a spy. My mother came to me with the curses, passing on her Veelan knowledge to her child as I mentioned earlier. I taught my brood the curses. The same night you three escaped the Manor, I was found out as a traitor, my wings stripped from my body. Millie, the Watcher, as you call her- jumped in to save me- and her wings were torn from her as well."

"Just because you wouldn't fight? They took your wings for that?" Hermione asked, a bit shocked.

"No. I agreed, under Veritasseum to follow and fight. And I did, just in my own way. They took my wings because I refused to go to my Chosen, and so did Millie and the rest of my brood. We were hardly about to let them harm or mark our Chosen. We escaped that night and hid until the final battle, taking out the rogue Veela's a few at a time with the charms my Mother taught us."

"You missed a spot," Harry said, grinning, trying to lighten the mood. Draco looked shocked a moment before laughing,

"I suppose we did. Some of them... most of them, those without true Veelan blood in their system, don't have Chosen. They're freaks of nature. I've killed several since then, that I personally stripped of their wings in the war. They should have died, as Voldemort made sure everyone had found their Chosen. They were supposed to be in the middle of their bonding. That's a Veela's weakest moment, just so you know, when they're in the middle of bonding with their Chosen."

"Why didn't you ever bond with yours?" Ron asked, looking thoughtful and a bit suspicious.

"No wings, Weasley, nothing to impress my Chosen. That, and I never intended to. My Chosen, particularly, would have rejected me."

"You can't get a damn break, Draco, Merlin," Hermione said and then to her friends questioning looks, "a Veela that's rejected by it's Chosen- it's one and true soul mate to an extreme level- will live a half life, devoid of real happiness."

"I've done fine so far. I have my brood, and Kestral, who will no doubt take over one day. So, don't pity me, thanks. I am- was- one of the strongest Veelas in existence, with the highest ranked brood, as far as I know. I own a successful business and don't get too much grief over the Dark Mark, so I imagine I've done pretty well for myself. "

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