Glompfest fic

[nicevenn]

Title: The Creature Within
Author drippingcherry
Recipient: zebrui
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: ~4.8k
Pairing(s): Harry/Draco
Summary: Draco knew from the moment they boarded the Hogwarts Express that this year was going to be a disaster. Veela fic. 8th year.
Warning(s): none
Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters herein are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No copyright infringement is intended.
A/N: Written for zebrui for serpentinelion's H/D Glompfest. Many thanks go out to anabel100, groolover, and geinahop for the advice, beta'ing, and Britpicking. Also, just for fun, we are assuming that the wizarding version of this plant is more realistic. :D



It was one of those mornings that brought with it a strong sense of foreboding. The dreary autumn weather could have been to blame, but Draco doubted that was it. He suspected that the ominous feeling in his gut was the knowledge that he would suffer his first defeat in a war he'd been fighting since the start of term.

He'd been struggling to control the Veela inside him -- they were not one and the same -- for a couple of weeks now, and he was growing weary. The upcoming Quidditch tryouts further added to the stress.

The creature tormented Draco unceasingly. It had found its mate the moment it had caught a whiff of Potter's scent as they boarded the Hogwarts Express. Now the Veela's instincts were becoming ever harder to resist; Draco no longer trusted himself to speak in Potter's presence, afraid of what words might emerge against his will.

It was just his luck that his first lesson that morning was Defence Against the Dark Arts -- with the Gryffindors.



♥~♥~♥


"Mr Malfoy, can you explain to us the difference between how male and female Veela attract their mates?"

Professor Snitkin turned around at the front of the classroom, wand held daintily at her side, and gave Draco her most charming smile. As if she knew his secret and could not think of a better way to quench her sadistic thirst than by slicing him open for all to see.

She'd never called on him before. Why now?

Draco wanted to answer the question or, better yet, tell Snitkin he thought it was unnecessary to study Veela in Defence Against the Dark Arts. But the Veela was stronger; it forced him to look over at Potter and meet his eyes.

The words that came out of Draco's mouth next were not his own.

"I want to rub my face all over Potter's balls until I can no longer resist his scent. Then I want to take his cock in my mouth – as far as it will go. I want to feel the head hit the back of my throat."


Professor Snitkin gasped. Most of Draco’s classmates turned to stare at him, mouths agape. Blaise and Weasley sniggered. Potter paled and shrank in his chair.

But the Veela could smell Potter's arousal -- a hint of a sharp scent that livened up his usual warm, spicy fragrance. Satisfied, the creature went into slumber.

"Mr Malfoy, that was inappropriate!"

Draco struggled to gather his remaining dignity and stay calm. The fact that he’d prepared an explanation for this sort of outburst didn’t make it any less mortifying.

"I apologise, Professor. You see, I’ve been taking a potion that helps me deal with my memories of the war. One of its more unfortunate side effects is my occasionally giving voice to the thoughts of people around me. Obviously Miss Parkinson has been letting her mind wander."

Pansy gave an indignant screech and swatted Draco’s arm with her book.

Snitkin’s face softened. "Oh, you poor dear," she said. Then she turned to Pansy. "Miss Parkinson, you should be ashamed of yourself!"

"I was not thinking that!" Pansy protested, but Professor Snitkin ignored her.

"Miss Granger, can you please answer the question?"

Granger tore her eyes away from Draco. "The female Veela’s magic is passive. It is her allure that draws her mate to her like a magnet. The male must take a more active role in pursuing his mate. He lacks the female’s charm, but has the gift of detecting what his mate wants – sexually – and is compelled to take advantage of those weaknesses."

Granger’s cheeks had flushed a deep pink as she spoke.

"That is correct," said Snitkin. "Can you think of any reason why we are discussing Veela in Defence Against the Dark Arts? They aren’t typically considered dark creatures."

"There is some controversy regarding matters of consent in human/Veela relationships," said Granger. "Although the human mate might be willing, his or her consent is given under the influence of the Veela’s magic."

"Very good, Miss Granger. Five points to Gryffindor."

Draco would have thought that Granger, of all people, would have mentioned that the Veela was also a victim, doomed to a life of pleasing its mate. But if she knew that detail -- and Draco was sure she did -- she didn't say anything.

Draco had never felt so alienated from the rest of the world.


♥~♥~♥


Draco's father had informed him the summer before his seventh year that the Malfoys had Veela blood in their line and that, if the gene was to manifest itself in Draco, the symptoms would begin to show once he came of age. The war had been foremost in Draco's mind then, so he hadn’t concerned himself with the news for very long. After the year had gone by without incident, he’d concluded that the creature was dormant.

He’d been wrong; the Veela’s sexual maturation had only been delayed.

With the awakening had come a feeling of utter helplessness, as if someone had pulled the ground from under Draco’s feet. All his former ambitions had become meaningless. Suddenly he'd had only one goal: to attend to Harry Potter’s every sexual whim.

Harry would submit to Draco’s advances – that much was certain. But the Veela’s magic guaranteed nothing more. It remained a matter of Potter’s free will whether he would return Draco’s affections. Either way, Draco was determined not to let the Veela consume him. He owed it to himself to make sure he stayed in control, even as he gave the creature free rein to do as it pleased with Potter.


♥~♥~♥


Draco shrugged off his robes as soon as he entered the greenhouse, where it was always warm and humid. He breathed in deeply as he undid the first two buttons of his shirt; during the first couple of lessons, he’d discovered that the strong odour of earth and fertiliser in the greenhouse masked Potter’s scent just enough to make standing near him for two hours of Herbology bearable.

The long trestle bench in the centre of the greenhouse was laden with pots containing cacti whose stems resembled penises both large and small, straight and arched. Draco glanced past Longbottom at Potter. His eyebrows had risen above the rims of his glasses, and he was staring at the plants with slightly parted lips. Draco detected that hint of sharpness in Potter’s scent again. The Veela inside him purred.

"Quiet down, everyone!" shouted Professor Sprout as she let the last student into the greenhouse and shut the door. She walked over to the head of the bench and pulled one of the pots towards her.

"Today we will be harvesting the Penis Cactus, known in German as Frauenglück, or Women’s Joy."

A few girls giggled. Professor Sprout sighed and shook her head.

"Let’s be mature about this lesson – we are all adults. So, who can tell us what the magical properties of this plant are? Yes, Miss Granger?"

"The Penis Cactus, a form of Echinopsis lageniformis, is most commonly used in potions for fertility and –" She cleared her throat. "– virility."

Again the class erupted in a fit of sniggers and giggles.

Professor Sprout nodded. "Correct. Ten points for Gryffindor. Now, what you need to do is to pick out the healthiest looking stems – this one, for example." She detached what looked like a large green penis from the base of the cactus and held it up for the class to see. "You want to make sure that the stem is long and straight or only slightly curved."

Professor Sprout put down the stem and picked two others. "If it is very short, like this one, or bent, like this one, it cannot be used. When you find one that can be used, make sure to break off the sharp spines near the base."

Frowning in concentration, Professor Sprout examined the stem from all angles and removed the spines by pinching them between her fingertips and bending them until they snapped off.

"Healthy stems go into the clear bins; deformed ones go into the black bins." She deposited her stems in the appropriate bins on either side of her and smiled. "Does anyone have any questions? No? Then let’s get started."

Pansy pulled forwards two pots, one for herself and one for Draco.

"This is going to be a disaster," Draco declared loudly. "Everyone around me is having dirty thoughts – I’m bound to say something embarrassing."

"Oh, shut up, Draco." Pansy was still angry at Draco for having blamed his outburst in Defence Against the Dark Arts on her, even though he’d told her about his real condition since then.

They got to work, silently snapping off stems and throwing them into the nearby bins. The scent of Potter’s arousal, mingled with the bright notes of curiosity, was just strong enough for the Veela to detect over the earthen smell inside the greenhouse. It told the creature exactly what Potter wanted.

Draco clenched his teeth and focused on the cactus stem in his hand. One by one, he broke off the spines, then tossed the smooth stem into the clear bin. Soon he fell into the rhythm and nearly succeeded in blocking out the Veela’s demands – until suddenly the scent of Potter’s arousal tripled in intensity.

Draco whipped his head around.

Potter had picked up a phallus-shaped stem of a similar length and thickness as Draco’s cock. And, just like the latter, it arched ever so slightly upwards.

"You like that one, don’t you Potter?" Draco pushed past Longbottom as he began to move slowly towards Potter. "What would you do if you were alone in here? Would you lock the door and pull down your trousers? I bet that chunk of succulent flesh would slide in easily given enough lube…"

Potter’s face went red. He took a step back. "Get away from me, Malfoy."

"Can you imagine how it would feel? The fullness in your arse as it moved in and out – almost like a real cock."

Potter grabbed Draco by the front of his robes and slammed him down on the table. A few of the clay pots hit the ground and shattered. "I don’t know what has got into you, Malfoy, but I want you to leave me the fuck alone."

"It’s not my fault – " Draco began, but Potter cut him off.

"Don’t try to blame it on Neville or anyone else. Just shut up."

Potter’s breath was ragged and he had a gleam in his eyes. The Veela found his dominance intoxicating. It wondered who would submit first.

"Mr Potter, that is quite enough!" cried Professor Sprout as she came round the table.

"Sorry, Professor," said Potter, letting Draco up. "Lost my temper."

"I’ll see you both in detention tonight." Professor Sprout squared her shoulders, pushed a strand of flyaway hair under the rim of her patched hat, and continued to go around checking on the other students’ progress.

Draco smoothed down his robes and sent Potter the most convincing glare he could manage, while the creature inside him rejoiced. Tonight its efforts would finally pay off.


♥~♥~♥


Draco shivered in the breeze as he and Potter waited for Professor Sprout outside the greenhouse. The Veela was being patient and allowing Draco to do nothing more than observe the other boy from the corner of his eye.

Potter was studiously avoiding Draco’s gaze. The air around him smelled faintly of wet salt. Anxiety. Potter was nervous.

Draco smirked to himself as Professor Sprout joined them and unlocked the door to the greenhouse.

"Good evening, boys," she said, holding the door open.

"Good evening," they each muttered in response as they walked past her.

Inside the greenhouse, Professor Sprout stood with her fists on her hips and looked around. "I think I’ll have you go through these bins and make sure everything is in the right place. You can levitate them up onto the table to make it easier. I’ll come back and check on you in an hour or so."

Potter watched her leave, then turned and gave Draco a wary look before pulling out his wand. He began to levitate the bins onto the table. There were ten – five clear and five black.

"I could tie you up, you know." Draco’s voice sounded low and feline and not at all like his own. "Make you watch me have a wank."

Potter shifted in his seat. “Why do you keep saying that stuff?”

"I want to see your eyes on my hand as it slides up and down my cock until my come spills over the backs of my fingers."

"Malfoy, snap out of it!"

Draco shook his head as if recovering from a daze. "I’m sorry," he said, though he wasn’t at all sorry.

"Did you know that your eyes shimmer when you do that?"

Potter looked angry and fascinated.

"Do they?"

"Yes." Potter’s eyes narrowed to green slits behind his spectacles. "What are you?"

Draco sneered. "Hasn’t Granger figured it out by now?"

"She has her suspicions."

"Do you think she’s right?"

They stared at each other for a long moment, Draco tapping his fingers on the tabletop.

Potter swallowed. "Yes."

Draco felt his stomach turn; Potter’s response meant he also knew the Veela had recognised him as his mate.

Draco was growing shifty under Potter’s scrutiny. Desperate for a distraction, he reached into one of the clear bins and began to sort through the obscene cactus stems. Potter followed suit.

"Do you actually, er – want to do those things you say to me?" asked Potter.

"The Veela does."

"Oh," said Potter, and he resumed picking through the bins. The vines of the Venomous Tentacula a few feet behind him recoiled, as if it too could smell his disappointment.

Draco felt the Veela’s delight rise in his chest. The creature didn't seem to mind that Potter's disappointment was based solely on the prospect of not satisfying his curiosity.

"Do you want me to do them?"

Potter shrugged, not looking up.

Draco reached out and dragged his fingers along the other boy's thigh. "What would you like me to do first, give you a blowjob or make you watch me wank?"

A blush crept over Potter's cheeks.

"Ah," said Draco.

"Wha -- ?"

Potter didn't react fast enough. Draco pulled out his wand and, with a flick of his wrist, sent ropes flying from the end of it; they whipped around Potter's torso, binding his arms to his sides.

Potter's nostrils flared. "Malfoy, I can't believe you'd --"

"Can't believe I'd what -- make your fantasies come true?" Draco’s lip curled. "That's my top priority."

"Against your will? That's spectacular," Potter huffed.

Even as the other boy spoke, Draco shrugged off his robes and began unbuttoning his trousers.

"Believe me, I don't like it any more than you do."

Potter looked away as soon as he caught a glimpse of Draco's cock.

"Watch."

Draco didn’t like the almost pleading tone his voice had taken, but it must have been what Potter needed. Reluctantly, Potter returned his gaze to Draco’s lap. His eyes followed Draco’s fingers as they trailed up the length of his cock.

A meek whimper escaped Potter’s throat on his next exhale. He watched, transfixed, as Draco dipped his thumb into the tip of his glans, then smeared the come all over the smooth skin. He darted out his tongue to moisten his lips.

The Veela seemed to gain strength as Potter became more aroused. Soon it was holding Draco in the tight, sharp grip of its talons; it wouldn’t allow him to think about, or even want, anything other than to please the boy standing opposite him.

"You – you’ve got wings," said Potter.

But Draco wasn’t interested in the ethereal feathers on either side of him. There was a distinct bulge in Potter’s robes now. Draco could see the other boy shift from foot to foot as he watched Draco begin to pump his cock.

"Malfoy – Draco, please."

"Please, what? Touch you, instead?" He gave a low chuckle. "I would, but I can only do the things you want most. Tonight it seems you want to be tortured."

Potter dropped to his knees. "No, I don’t. Let me suck you."

There was hint of sweetness in the air when Potter spoke, but it faded as quickly as the sound of his words.

If Draco had been himself, he wouldn’t have been able to resist anyone on their knees, begging for his cock. But the Veela showed no reluctance whatsoever in stepping away from Potter and his tousled hair and moist, parted lips.

Draco moved his hand faster, never taking his eyes off Potter’s face. His climax was building quickly now. He began to gasp and moan, whether because he was having the best wank of his life or because it was what Potter wanted, he didn’t know.

At last Draco felt his muscles weaken and the pleasure course through him in waves. His cock spurted come in thick strands that landed on the ground between him and Potter, some of them nearly hitting the other boy’s face.

The Veela loosened its grip, and Draco was himself again. He felt his cheeks burn with shame as he tucked his cock back into his trousers. He cleaned up the splatter of come on the ground with a muttered "Tergeo." Then he turned back to the table and resumed sorting through the bins.

"Are you going to release me?" Potter asked, his voice tight.

Draco smiled. "My pleasure."

With a wave of his wand, he released Potter from his bonds. As Draco turned his attention to the assignment once more, the greenhouse was filled with Potter’s moans and the rhythmic slapping sound of wanking.



♥~♥~♥



Draco had hoped that his encounter with Potter in the greenhouse would put the Veela to sleep for an extended period of time, so he was gravely disappointed when the urges started up again only a day and a half later. And his condition seemed to be getting worse; he was beginning to see Potter everywhere he went.

The previous evening, he could have sworn he saw a bespectacled boy with dark, messy hair in the Quidditch stands while he was trying out for Seeker. He’d nearly let his opponent, a fourth-year girl, grab the Snitch from right under his nose. By the time he had landed, though, the spot where he thought he’d seen Potter had been empty.

When he got to Potions on Friday afternoon, Draco took a seat at the table behind Potter. In doing so he earned himself a glare from Seamus and Dean, who usually occupied the spot, but he didn’t care; he needed to talk to Potter today.

Pansy took one look at Draco’s expression and scooted her chair as far away as she could. Granger and Weasley hadn’t made it to class yet, so Draco leaned forward across the table and spoke to the back of Potter’s neck.

“I loved listening to you wank the other night. Would you like me to lend you a hand – or mouth – next time?”

Potter stiffened.

“You like that idea, don’t you?” asked Draco. “My hot, wet mouth tight around your cock… my finger in your arse… you wouldn’t know whether to move backwards or forwards.”

Potter ran his hand roughly through his hair, giving it a little tug when he reached the crown of his head.

Draco smirked and leaned back in his seat just as Professor Slughorn strode into the classroom. Having satisfied the Veela’s urge to please and tease for the moment, Draco managed to brew a perfect batch of Virility Potion.

“Look at that colour!” exclaimed Professor Slughorn as he peered into Draco’s cauldron. “A perfect, crystal-clear amethyst.” He scribbled an O next to Draco’s name on the grading sheet and moved on.

When Slughorn was a safe distance away, Potter stretched, arching his back, and dropped a folded note onto Draco’s table.

Draco unfolded the note, and he felt his heart jump as he read the message.

Meet me on the Quidditch Pitch at midnight. Leave your broom in the shed.


♥~♥~♥


Draco didn’t see Potter when he walked onto the Quidditch Pitch at midnight. He hoped Potter was just running late – as Gryffindors often did – and not that he had changed his mind.

It was a perfect night out. Millions of stars were twinkling in the ink-coloured sky, and Draco’s jumper and thin leather jacket were just enough to keep him warm against the chilly air. Somewhere in the distance, an owl hooted and another answered its call.

Draco gave a start when something large swooped down in front of him from above. It was Potter, who had instructed Draco to leave his broom in the shed and was now hovering a few feet off the ground on his new Firebolt Inferno.

“I thought we could go for a ride,” said Potter.

Draco raised a brow. “And you assumed that I would agree to let you fly me around the Hogwarts grounds?”

“I did.” Potter lowered his broom until his feet touched the ground. “Come on, don’t be so difficult. If you’re going to give me a blowjob, we can at least try to make it a date.”

Reluctantly, and with an exaggerated sigh, Draco took his place behind Potter on the broom. Potter kicked off before Draco was ready, and the latter nearly fell backwards off the broom. He wrapped his arms around Potter’s waist to hang on.

“Not a very gallant date, are you?” said Draco.

“Of course I’m gallant,” replied Potter, shouting over the wind as they picked up speed. “How do you think I got into Gryffindor?”

They flew up above the treetops, around the castle’s turrets, and then dove down, down towards the lake until their feet were almost skimming the water. Potter wove his way around the Giant Squid’s tentacles as they rose up and then disappeared back beneath the lake’s obsidian surface.

Draco felt a strange but pleasant heat in his chest. It spread throughout his body, warming even the tips of his fingers and his nose. He wasn’t sure how much time had passed before he realised that he’d extended his wings and wrapped them around Potter. He felt himself blush and promptly retracted them.

Potter landed his broom on the soft grass by the lake. He spelled the patch of ground dry and cast a warming charm on it. Then he sat down and offered Draco his hand.

“Potter, you’re scaring me.” Draco ignored the extended palm and sat down beside Potter.

The Veela, confident that it would get its turn, allowed him enough freedom to speak as he pleased.

“What’s all this about?” Draco asked.

Potter didn’t answer. He tilted his head back and stared up at the sky, the fingers of his right hand squeezing the knuckles of his left between raised knees. A moment later, he said, “Hermione explained to me how it works – the Veela thing.”

“I figured as much.” Draco had come to that conclusion after Potter failed to question him extensively in the greenhouse.

“What are we going to do?”

Scooting closer to the other boy, Draco said, “Well, we can start by –“

Potter leaned away. “When I asked you if you wanted to do all those dirty things you say, you only answered that the Veela does. Do you?”

The silence that followed the question was interrupted only by the occasional splash of the Giant Squid moving in the lake.

“Does it even matter?” Draco replied at last. “I can’t resist it, and neither can you.”

Potter turned to look at him. His eyes searched Draco’s face for a long moment. “You’re absolutely right,” he said.

The Veela’s patience was growing thin; it could not stand to see Potter unhappy.

Draco touched the inside of Harry’s thigh. “Let me please you. I want to taste your come on the back of my tongue. I want to feel it sliding down my throat.”

Potter exhaled a shaky breath. His hand covered Draco’s on his thigh.

“Did you ever stop to consider that the Veela might be wrong?”

Draco shook his head. “The Veela is never wrong – not as far as your desires are concerned.”

Suddenly Potter’s thumb was tracing Draco’s lower lip.

“Trust me, it’s wrong,” said Potter. “It only wants you to service me. But I want to please you, too.”

“Why would you want such a thing?” Draco asked around the thumb pushing in between his teeth. He bit down lightly on the digit and swirled his tongue around it.

Potter sucked in a breath, then pulled his hand away from Draco’s mouth and kissed him.

Their lips crashed together as if they’d spent years in anticipation of this moment. Something fluttered low in Draco’s belly when their tongues met. He lay back and pulled Potter down on top of him.

Potter’s scent was intoxicating – spicy and a little sweet. Draco had only smelled the latter for a fleeting moment in the greenhouse. Affection, he thought. A hint of it anyway. He spread his legs, making room for the other boy to lie in between his thighs.

When Potter pulled back, his breathing was heavy and his lips glistening. “Because it is, not the Veela that makes my pulse quicken, and I think we can make this work.”

He lowered his face to Draco’s neck and sucked the soft skin into his mouth while circling his hips. Their erections rubbed together; the resulting friction was exquisite. Draco’s underpants were wet where his cock had oozed precome.

“Will you let me suck you?” Potter asked when he emerged for breath.

The moment Draco nodded, Potter kissed him again, his hand already reaching between them. Having freed Draco’s cock, Potter wrapped his fingers around the base and began to stroke it.

Draco arched into Potter’s grip, a stream of curses and pleas flowing from his lips. He stared up at the night sky, afraid he’d come right away if he looked down and saw Potter lowering his face towards his crotch.

Draco’s breath hitched as his cock was engulfed in wet heat. It was obvious Potter hadn’t given a blowjob before – his rhythm was clumsy and uncertain – but that didn’t matter. Every movement up and down, every swipe of Potter’s tongue brought him closer to the edge.

Draco buried his fingers in Potter’s hair. It was surprisingly soft and tuggable and provided excellent leverage when he began to thrust up into the other boy’s mouth.

When he finally came, the sky above him spun like a cosmic kaleidoscope.

Panting, Draco let go of Potter and sank back down to the ground. Something had changed inside him. The Veela seemed to have released him. It was no longer pushing him, demanding that he see to Potter’s every need. And, based on the bulge in Potter’s trousers when he crawled back up Draco’s body, he certainly did have a rather pressing need.

“How are you feeling?” Potter asked.

“Strange,” Draco admitted. “The Veela – I think it’s left me alone.”

“I know.”

Draco raised himself up on his elbows. “What do you mean?”

Even though it was dark and Potter’s face was in shadow, Draco could feel his eyes boring into his own.

“You haven’t done much research on Veela, have you?” asked Potter.

Draco shook his head. It seemed silly and irresponsible now that he thought about it, but he’d been too angry and frustrated with his situation to care what books had to say about the topic.

“Veela are only compelled to please their mates as long as their own desires remain untended,” Potter explained. “Once a Veela’s mate returns the attention, it is free to show its affection according to its own will.”

Draco snorted and turned his face away. The rejection left a bitter taste in his mouth.

“What’s wrong?” asked Potter.

“So you did all that to get rid of me?”

Potter’s laughed tickled Draco’s cheek. “It wouldn’t have worked if I hadn’t actually wanted to please you. The actions have to be supported by genuine feelings.”

“Ah.”

Draco couldn’t hide his smile, nor could he stop his skin from emitting a soft glow.

Potter lay down beside him and took the back of his hand. “Even though you no longer need to, I was kind of hoping you’d still want to take care of this.”

Next thing Draco knew, his hand was full of denim-covered cock. He squeezed the thing and, with his other hand, pulled Potter in for a kiss.



The End.

Comments

[nicevenn.livejournal.com]

Thanks! It was so much fun to write. ♥

[nursedarry.livejournal.com]

So sweet and hawt and mmmmmmm....

Damn, I need a veela icon!

I can't remember if I commented on the comm or not - but DAMN, I guh...fffff...speechless.

[nicevenn.livejournal.com]

I think you did, but that's OK. Repeat comments are love.

[kayoko.livejournal.com]

Whee! Re-read this story. I love Veela stories. Poor Draco being compelled to sprout all those dirty thoughts.

[nicevenn.livejournal.com]

Haha, perfect icon, considering the Twitter conversation earlier today.

[missscarletjoy.livejournal.com]

I love how your sex scenes are graphic without being crude. I haven't stumbled across any words or phrases that pull me out of the story by thinking 'ew' as sometimes happens with other author's work. Sex aside, you're a brilliant story teller.